Pentimento
by Darma Druid
Summary: Sequel to Fortress Around the Heart. More love. More hope. More denial. More battle. The Heart is a Fortress - against all its purpose of existence, its reason and its objective, it yearns to be conquered.
1. Default Chapter

I was content. I really was. When I ended Fortress, it seemed the perfect ending. After what happened, I couldn't see them coming together as in pink fairy tales. On the other hand, I couldn't see them apart, either. So I left it on a note of hope and luck. And lots of determinism (on Legolas' behalf).  
  
However...the more I go back to it, the more I feel it's unfinished. The characters stir and whisper...banging against their coffins. They refuse to be buried! They want to return to the land of the living and finish this – for good or bad. Because even though we might curse and groan and kick and spit, Fate will have her way with us – the only choice left to us is whether it'll be nice or rough.  
  
Or...  
  
Do we really choose our lives, our paths and walk in blind crisscrosses on this globe, led by emotions, ethics, or the lack of those?  
  
This story is an exploration of that. It is not so much about a haunting past, but more about a haunting future – the fight we give to escape the inescapable, to evade the inevitable. It's about how we try to cut what is indelible, how we try to bury what is imperishable. In short...it is about a man and a woman...and love.  
  
This story is a **Pentimento** – the reemergence in a painting of an image that's been painted over.  
  
Once again – grand master Tolkien owns it all and I am just using his genius of a work for my own little, selfish ends. If you are strict about his work, do not read this. If you are unwilling to waste time with a fantasy that goes nowhere and aims only to entertain, don't read this. If you are tired of Legomances, Mary-Sues or elves – don't read this. If, however, you are bored as I am and willing to take a ride for the pure joy of it – come and sit by the fire.

For Kris and Missy, who insisted this be written and then insisted more for it to be published. If anyone is entertained by it in the slightest, it is their deed.

Inspired by "_Strawberry Wine_" by Pat Benatar and especially by "_If You Could Read My Mind_" by Gordon Lightfoot.

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_"...Who can heal another? Who can cover past injuries, touch a magic wand and unmake the ugly scars? Who can forgive and forget so utterly that even the recollection of the forgiveness itself fades into oblivion?  
  
"Is there a way to defy the heart? The brain? Is there a path that leads out of this mass of meat that governs our lives, or does everything that enters it remain for all times to come - the good as well as the bad? Must all the seeds we sew into the tender earth of our spirits sprout? The weeds as well as the orchids? The poisonous vines as well as the lilacs?...  
  
"I am not the one to ask, far less the one to answer. I only walk through this maze of a jungle in my yard, trying to understand how simple, tiny things have become such gigantic roots, such labyrinths of branch and leaf."  
_

Legolas looked up from the newspaper in his hand, out into the clouds that were lazily dissolving around the plane he was sitting in. That familiar, lazy ache settled in his heart and he breathed unconsciously in preparation for it. A long moment passed and the pain did not lessen. He cast his gaze down once more as his slender fingers slid over the black, miniscule print of the article. He tried to imagine Irulan sitting in front of her laptop, writing this. Maybe it had been nighttime - the later hours of the night, even. She must have been in her pajamas. Her hair must have been in a hasty bun. The blue flicker of the computer screen washing over her face, over her olive skin and her dark eyes.  
  
He sighed and looked out again. He could have been there with her. He could have walked into the room, a slight smile on his lips when he perceived her state. He would have embraced her from behind then and she would have jumped with surprise at his silent approach. Maybe she would have been mad and tried to hit him, but Legolas would have chuckled only and embraced her stronger. He would have softened her temper with kisses on her cheek and her neck, inhaling her warm scent. "Enough," he would have murmured into her ear as she relaxed in his arms, "Come to bed." She would have protested, no doubt. She would have whined that Legolas himself barely slept and spent the majority of the night taking care of the problems of the world. But he would have ignored her objections and lifted her from the chair with the ease of lifting a little child. Irulan would giggle despite herself and swing her arms around his neck in an attempt to cling to him. "If I can push aside the world for a few hours, Irulan," he would have whispered to her as he strode towards the bedroom in the darkness with her comfortable weight in his arms, "surely you can delay your article as well."  
  
None of this would ever happen.  
  
Legolas sighed with frustration and closed his eyes. He leaned his head back on the cushions as the plane shook ever so slightly during the flight. Instead of her anchor and support, he was a weed in her garden. He was the poisonous vine that she wrote about. He had sprouted in her serenity and devoured everything else that had been growing there so tenderly. Every day she was chopping him off, cutting through branch and vein, through fiber and tissue. And unable to do anything else, every night after her departure he was growing once more. Come morning she would see that he had stubbornly held on to life, that he had painfully elongated his limbs once more. Ready to bear the cut of the axe again.  
  
'What is it about Fate?' he thought grimly. 'I am master of myself no longer. I am drifting...like some piece of wood in a cold stream. Torn off from the living tissue. Removed from where I belong, and thrown into this thunder of emotions.' The thoughts encircled him, further and further, until their echoes sung strange songs in his head.  
  
The plane shook ever so slightly and Legolas found himself jerking up from a state of light slumber. He blinked in confusion, surprised that he had drifted into sleep so easily and so unexpectedly. A swift glance out the window revealed the outskirts of the beehive of a city. Another moment passed as he remained unmoving, trying to clear his mind and the disturbance at the fact that his control had slipped like that. Then he placed the newspaper in his bag, put on his belt and awaited the upcoming landing.


	2. I Release You From This Burden

Thank you all for such kind and motivating reviews! "Fortress" was complete in itself. So if you think that the ending was too good to mess with, you can skip this sequel. It might be the wise thing to do, ha ha!

Once again...this is a new story and though it is a sequel, I don't want repetitions. I want to focus much more on the inner turbulence of the characters in this one, than I had the chance to, in Fortress. That story had to set a base, paint an environment. Thankfully now that that is done, I can dive into more spiritual, mental and sensual matters. It might come across a bit too boring for some of you and I don't deny that the pace will be slower. But even the sweetest pie wouldn't taste good if we had it every day. So in celebration of trying something new, it shall be so.

The corrections that you sent are a great help, thank you. Fortunately my beta is with me now and I think there will be far fewer. However, if you do find any, I would ask you to send them to me personally instead of a review. They are, after all, an assistance, not exactly a review of the work.

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_"...it is like falling in love with a god....and waking up to a man. So alluring this ocean of love! So tempting! It invokes the primitive urge to shed all garments and dive into its depths. But...underneath that fantastic display is a world so alien and so frightening, that no words can do it justice. _

_"I have swam there. I have floated amongst the eerie ruins of its strange landscape. I have been hunted by its predators. When I found myself at the shore – broken and battered, barely having escaped from the hypnotizing pull of the deep, I swore never to set foot in it again. I know now that where the ocean begins, I end. It will melt me, smash me, distort me. What will I become? Will I turn into sand? Will I turn into salty water? Will I ever be Irulan again?..."_

Entry from Irulan's journey, April.

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"Is this seat taken?" came his voice. With it came the familiar wave of frustration and something akin to...well...relief? No matter what, Irulan could not deny that Legolas and herself had a bond that was beyond the understandings of her puny, modern mind. A bond that would neither fade, nor break. That would pulse and bind one to the other no matter how far apart they struggled to remain. Not that Legolas really struggled to remain apart!

His shadow fell on her momentarily and she could not find it in herself to reject him. Again! "Welcome back, Legolas," was all she managed to say as she entwined her fingers on the table, slightly shifting to sit more erect in preparation for the upcoming battle. For every confrontation with Legolas was a battle. He never stopped trying and she stubbornly refused to give in.

It was not easy, mind you, and one had to congratulate Irulan for her incredible strength, because she was not only fighting Legolas. She was fighting Anne as well. And at times she wasn't sure which one was worse. She was fighting Haldir, who had always kept his polite distance in the matter, but had nevertheless shown up several times with Legolas on very strange "coincidental" meetings – such as walking in on a dinner that Anne or Irulan were having in some restaurant. Or suddenly appearing at a concert or opera the women were attending, only to discover, with seemingly innocent delight, that their seats were next to each other. In such situations it took mighty control for Irulan not to turn around and punch Anne in the face. The only reason she didn't do so was because she would never give Legolas the satisfaction by showing him that he had finally managed to tear through her wall of indifference.

Legolas would sit next to her, silent and polite. And Irulan would mimic him – pretending that she didn't feel his aura sinking onto her, his warmth enveloping her, his sole existence pulsing beside her like some natural force. It was so easy to give in to the temptation and –for just a few hours- pretend that the terrible things of their past never happened and that they were still a couple. Pretend that they were attending this event with their best friends. So tempting! So alluring! And so very, very dangerous.

Because it was addictive. It was frustrating to realize that the next morning when she woke up, he was the first thing that popped into her mind and that she thought of him more throughout that day than on any other day. It was infuriating to sit in a cafe and know that he might turn up suddenly, and more infuriating not to know what she felt in regard to that.

Everyone said that he had changed. That he was far more understanding and in control of himself. But those who spoke had not seen the Legolas who had stood on the white sand of Bentanta's tomb, gazing at Baeron under the bluish light that sank from the cracks above. They had not seen the look in his eyes and neither had they felt the terrible determination that had pulsed from him – stronger and more blinding than anything Irulan had ever encountered. She had seen his true face, thank you very much, and it wasn't nice. It had frightened her beyond anything, because it was perhaps the only time his true identity was revealed to her – Legolas was not a charming, attractive, well-mannered man. In truth, he was an alien. To be with him was like being with an alien creature from another galaxy that happened to look human, but was something entirely different underneath the appearance.

Irulan woke up from her wandering thoughts when he sank into the chair across from her and met her eyes. It took all her willpower to remain expressionless to him. Anyone would have felt stunned to say the least in the presence of Legolas. Irulan felt more than stunned. She felt in love. And it was most disturbing.

He smiled a beautiful smile. His eyed did a lazy, almost penetrating stroll on her face and her features. The gravity of his expression as he underwent the task forced an involuntary smile on her own lips and Irulan deftly shook her head. "I am the same, Legolas. What on earth are you looking for?"

"The same?!" was his amused exclamation. "You are never the same."

Irulan chuckled despite herself and slightly leaned back in her chair. She had given up being rude and harsh to Legolas. It was pointless. Her anger had faded a long time ago and she had come to accept the fact that no matter what she did, he would pursue her. It made more sense to be polite but distanced. "What does your keen sight tell you, then?" was the mock frustrated question.

Legolas, too, leaned back as one of his hands traveled to remain on the table. The sun stroked his silver hair and danced on his perfect skin. It was amazing to her how he could look the way he did every single day in his life - fabulous. "Your skin is slightly darker," he said slowly, his blue eyes gliding over her visage once more. Irulan cocked her eyebrow as he slightly tilted his head, his gaze still intense. "Your eyes betray your lack of sleep...You have lost some weight - two pounds perhaps..." Despite herself, she felt amazed. The fact that Legolas could detect such minor things on her just by sitting across her was unbelievable. "I've never seen this shirt on you before and allow me to say that the color is a perfect choice, Irulan."

Irulan rolled her eyes and crossed her arms on her chest, feeling oddly both flattered and frustrated. He leaned slightly forward, then, mirroring her entwined hands, placing his own merely inches from her. The distance forced a flutter of excitement into her and Irulan didn't know if she liked it or despised it.

"Your skin tells me that you ran out of chocolate," the elf said with a slight grin. Irulan gave him a sour glare. They both knew that she found it impossible to resist the chocolate he insisted on bringing her and that it made her break out almost immediately. "I happen to have the remedy for that." A tastefully wrapped box of chocolate appeared on the table and Irulan almost moaned with frustration. Legolas laughed and entwined his fingers again, this time his hand resting closer to hers, but strictly not touching it.

"Alas, how you manage to look more fabulous each and every time I see you, is a secret that has yet to be revealed to me," he sighed. She bit her cheeks and looked away to evade his penetrating gaze. A long silence slid between them as she tried to muster the anger and the strength to stare back at him. The waiter showed up in between and Legolas ordered coffee for himself. Still she failed to return his gaze, so she focused on the people in the cafe instead and on the afternoon sun warming her back. A distant part of her mind realized once again the interest and admiration that pooled around Legolas, who seemed completely oblivious to it. She heard him opening the package of chocolate and looked up a moment later to see it opened and offered to her.

Irulan sighed and more for the sake of breaking the intensity than to actually eat chocolate, took a piece and let it melt on her tongue. Legolas deftly fished out an identical praline and did the same. Another moment of silence rose and neither broke it. The coffee came and still they sat, a heavy intensity sizzling around them.

"I read your article," he said finally. Their eyes locked and Legolas chose that moment to lift his entwined grip to rest on his lips as his eyes remained fixed on her.

Irulan grimaced and took a sip from her own coffee. It was no surprising news. Not at all. So she waited, eager to hear his opinion but afraid to ask for it.

"Your talent in that area is not from Estel, I can tell you that," the elf mused then and Irulan looked up to meet his gaze despise herself. His lips twitched further into a smile before he continued. "Though Arwen wrote exquisite poetry."

Irulan swallowed softly. There it was again. Talk of Aragorn and Arwen. Of the Old Days. Of history. And with it came that terrible curiosity. She pursed her lips and remained as expressionless as she could.

Another moment of silence passed between them. "You fascinate me," he whispered suddenly. "I could spend a lifetime with the effort of understanding you." It was a very unexpected remark. Irulan just remained staring back at him, her whole focus on not gaping and he remained focus on her, his blue eyes glazed with who knows what strange thoughts.

"Legolas..." she grunted finally, breaking the unbelievable blanket of inaction that had settled between them. How he managed to stir such things in her was beyond her! Every time he just showed up and with a single look, gesture or statement managed to throw her off-balance utterly, completely and beyond question. She would never win this battle. Never ever.

"Heath!" screeched a third voice, breaking the intensity that Irulan was battling with not much victory. Both man and woman blinked with surprise and looked up. "Heath!" the woman repeated in awed whisper as her long, slender fingers lifted to remove her sunglasses with painful slowness.

Irulan would never admit it, but the first feeling that blinked in herself at the flawless beauty looming above her was not a good one. Not good at all. In fact it was suspiciously akin to jealousy, but she would never ever not in her entire lifetime and for no price admit such a thing even to herself. She just felt the slightest sting of discomfort and unconsciously shifted in her seat as her gaze did a quick sweep on the immaculate skin, the slightly tilted blue-green eyes, the arched eyebrows, the small and delicate nose and the overall slender figure of the woman before her. The woman who saw none of that inspection, because she was utterly and solely focused on the elf.

"It IS you!" was the addition of a disbelieving whisper. Irulan glanced across the table. Legolas looked surprised. And to her demise (why was that exactly?) surprised in a good way. A splendid smile was on his lips and he immediately rose to his feet, slightly bowing his head. On anyone else it would look rather odd, but the gesture fit his graceful ways immensely.

"Amanda," he said gently, smiling wider. A moment passed before he reached out and folded both his hands on hers, his smile growing further. "What a wonderful surprise!"

Amanda was in no state to reply, so shocked she seemed. Her eyes glided swiftly from head to toe, then back. "Heath," she whispered again and this time there was a unmistakable adoration in the tone. Something that no mere friend would say. Irulan itched inwardly and again felt annoyed to do so.

Legolas waited in patience and allowed her to overcome her shock. "It has been long, hasn't it?" was his only, slow statement, merely to aid her in her state.

"Too long," she said, finally her voice gaining a stronger tone. Her fingers slid to grasp his hand firmer as her blue-green eyes twinkled like gems. "What...what are you doing...here?"

"Visiting a friend," was his answer as he turned to Irulan with a smile. The word "friend" brought a pang of anger with it and Irulan, rather baffled with the emotions she had been experiencing for the past two minutes felt aggravated and overly irritated by her reaction. She knew that Legolas was only using it because it was the most reasonable and harmless word to use. She also knew that she herself had always insisted on it – though Legolas hated to think of Irulan and himself as merely "friends" and had never uttered the term, before. Still, she felt dismissed and overlooked. 'Which is a good thing,' a part of her mind said. The part that still functioned on logic. The other part of her mind remained silent. "Amanda, allow me to introduce you to Irulan. Irulan, this is Amanda."

Amanda seemed to realize finally that there were creatures other than Heath crawling on this planet, and she blinked before she turned to gaze down on Irulan. So much was loaded in the silent exchange that followed, that it would be a definite failure to try to analyze them here. Suffice is to say that it only served to irritate both parties further. "Nice to meet you," Irulan managed to say after a rather long silence. Though she wished nothing more than to shove her chair away and leave the presence of this gorgeous man and fabulous woman, she stubbornly resisted the urge and merely offered her hand.

The next incident was very unexpected.

Amanda made no effort to shake her hand. Her eyes just remained glued to Irulan for another moment, then glazed with disinterest and a forced smile appeared on her lips. "Likewise," was the only thing she chirped before she turned her full attention to Legolas once more.

If she was angry before, Irulan was blistering now. She didn't know what was worse - that her heart was burning like a lump of coal for no apparent reason? Or that she had been dismissed swiftly as no potential threat to Madame Gorgeous? Or that Legolas STILL stood with his hands enfolding Amanda's, seemingly oblivious to all this? Or maybe it was the fact that instead of feeling glad that she was spared another half an hour with the annoying elf, she felt frustrated that another had ended their conversation?

"I missed you so much, Heath," Amanda whispered, a tender smile on her lips.

Irulan pursed her lips and gazed at the man whose smile broadened. "I missed you too, Amanda," was his reply, his voice heavenly soft. A dread like no other sunk into her heart at that moment and Irulan was tempted to fling an open curse to her own stupid reactions. 'Stop it!' she scolded herself, trying desperately to cease the burning in her heart.

"You look amazing," she added with crystal laughter. "You always did of course." Her head tilted a little and her eyes narrowed. "I missed even telling you this!" was her fascinated addition.

Legolas chuckled and motioned for her to sit and the woman gracefully sunk into the empty third chair. He did not let go of her hand, though and only placed their entwined grip on the table as his face brightened with joy. "It feels good to hear that again," he said as his fingers ever so slightly squeezed hers. "I will not try to put your beauty into words," he said with a childish grin, then. "It has outgrown my skill." A pinkish hue hit Amanda's cheeks and for the first time her gaze broke to settle nervously on her lap.

There are moments of blinding clarity in all of our lives. Times when a divine hand removes a curtain and shows us that we have been living in blissful ignorance of an important fact. Sometimes we can be told that fact dozens of times by many different people, and it simply won't sink in. Then an advertisement comes up when we are sitting, bored and tired in the eerie hours of the night...or two lines of a poem catch our eye in a magazine as we rock in the subway car. And at that moment, understanding comes with baffling speed. We remain rooted, unable to grasp how on earth we didn't see it before – when it was literally in our faces the whole time.

Such a moment descended on Irulan in that cafe, that afternoon in New York. Until that precise moment, Legolas had only been a man to her – he existed as a figure in the long theater act that was Irulan's life. There was family, there were friends, some colleagues, past lovers...and there was Legolas. Legolas, whose presence she was so used to, since he was always there, always encircling her walls. He was a man in her life and in the grand picture, that was all there was to it.

She had forgotten that Legolas did not exist just FOR her. That he existed independent of her and beyond her. That he actually did have all the attributes she had –such as thought, emotions, reactions, ethical dilemma, principles- and was, all in all, a world or a theater act of his own. In short...during the blink of an eye when Amanda blushed and cast her eyes down, before her heart could beat three more times, Irulan realized with dazzling clarity that for Legolas, there was a world outside of her. A world where others were.

So long had he been chasing her that she had forgotten that he actually did not NEED to chase her. That there was a life for him when he WASN'T chasing her. Amanda smiled, glancing up at him again and he smiled back in the most reassuring manner. Her heart beat a fourth time. The hand pushed the curtain aside a little further. And Irulan understood without the slightest doubt that there was a life and happiness for Legolas that would not necessarily include herself...but rather someone like Amanda.

The irony of the situation was so obvious that she could feel nothing but bafflement as a reaction to it. Here she had been, barely minutes ago, sitting across from Legolas and trying her best to be rude. She had been ready to scold him like a little child. Ready to push him away. To shut him up and to shut him off. As a matter of fact, she had been doing that very thing for many, many months now.

And then there was Amanda. Kind Amanda. Polite Amanda. Amanda who felt no unease in offering her praises to Legolas and who felt no need to hide her adoration for him. Amanda who probably would utter nothing but kind words to him and remain gentle and soft to him every single day of their lives.

It was simple, really: Gorgeous Amanda, plain Irulan. Kind Amanda, cruel Irulan. Willing Amanda, stubborn Irulan. Supportive Amanda, torturous Irulan.

She sat in her chair and watched their interaction as they exchanged praises and gentle remarks and kind words. A slow, burning ache found its way to her heart. It came leisurely but with the surety of a slap in the face. Any other would have treasured Legolas. Any other woman would have been grateful for the company and support of such a man. Any other would have been honored to share his company. Any other but Irulan. A lump settled on her throat and her hands began to tremble ever so slightly. But she pushed up her chin and hid them under the table. Though embedded in shame, she would not let them see her like this.

"Wouldn't you agree, Irulan?" Legolas said suddenly and she blinked, growing aware of the fact that she hadn't been listening to the conversation.

A moment of silence passed as the man and the woman looked at her and she found nothing else to do but to look from one to the other. "I...I'm sorry," Irulan managed and cleared her throat, "You were saying?"

Legolas gave her a long look and Amanda merely smiled in polite but rather judgmental poise. "Are you well, Irulan?" he said finally, his eyes gaining further intensity.

"Of course!" Irulan laughed nervously. "I was only....I was carried away for a moment."

Unfortunately the elf was not satisfied. The dubious look on his face was hard to miss and Irulan felt angry at his persisting concern. Like he really cared! He had Amanda now! The idea brought another pang of anger and before she could think, she was on her feet, pulling the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

Legolas rose as well, his eyes glued to her. He felt embarrassed to have left her out of the conversation like that. It was so unlike him! Not to mention, overly rude. No doubt that Irulan was angry at him for being overlooked like that. Though, of course, that had not been his intention at all. Before he could say the words, she was speaking again. "Not only have I missed the conversation," she said, another nervous laughter escaping her lips," but the time as well! I'm sorry, I must go." She gave Amanda a quick, almost dismissive nod with the head and repeated the gesture to him before she stepped away and began to stride, eager to leave the table behind.

"Irulan, wait!" Legolas appeared right beside her as she tried to march through the crowded street.

"I must go, Legolas. I have things to do," she said, not looking in his direction. '_Don't you see?!'_ she screamed at him in her mind. _'Don't you see? How you destroy yourself? And how you don't have to?'_

"I was hoping to talk to you." Then he hastily added, "I only want to talk. I will not do anything to make you uncomfortable. Please."

"Legolas," Irulan chuckled, feeling irritated at the fact that he would simply not disappear altogether, "we have nothing to talk about." _'Oh, Legolas...'_ said a tired voice in her mind, _'Why such torture to yourself? Why such pain? All you have to do is turn around and walk back.'_

"If so…" he said gently and grasped her elbow, forcing her to a slow to a halt. Irulan swallowed and tried to wipe any expression off her face before she turned to his direction. "...then I have things to say."

"Such as?" she sighed with frustration, stubbornly not meeting his eyes. For no apparent reason she felt like sitting on the pavement and crying her heart out.

"Such as 'I'm sorry'," he said a long moment later. "I was carried away. Amanda took me by surprise. I did not mean to leave you out like that."

Despite herself, she locked eyes with him, then. _'I can not be with you. But you can be without me,'_ she thought. The urge to raise her hand and touch his face stirred in her, but Irulan suppressed it. "You should go back to her," was all she managed to say. It was all there was to say. Underneath the immediate meaning of that sentence was another, larger one and that meaning, too, was true. Legolas should go back to her, or the likes of her, instead of struggling with someone like Irulan.

"Nay," he whispered, taking a closer step and drowning her with his sudden intensity, "I wish to stay with you."

He lifted his fingers to touch her face but she moved away. "Don't," she whimpered, taking a step back.

"Irulan," he sighed and his tone was downright tired and frustrated, "even the _Dark Lord_ would have at least _considered_ giving me a second chance by now!" His eyes blazed with a blue fire and he took another step towards her, once more closing the distance between them. "Am I a murderer?" he demanded, his voice gaining strength. "Have I done some great, shameful sin? Have I betrayed you? Abused you?" She shrank back at his advance, a distant part of her mind amazed that Legolas was completely oblivious that they were standing in a crowded New York street. "What is my crime? What is this horrible stain that you will not allow to be wiped clean?" She didn't look away from him, trying very hard not to show how anxious and nervous she felt at his fury. Legolas clenched his jaw and looked at her for a long moment. "You once said you loved me," he stated, almost hurt. Irulan swallowed again, feeling even more afraid at his sadness. "Is there absolutely nothing in your heart that recalls those days?"

"I...I..." she stammered, not knowing what to say and yet aware that an answer was expected from her. "I think...." She sighed, massaging her face. "I think you should go back to her," she finished.

His eyes widened slightly and a perfect stillness overcame him. A moment passed. Then another. Irulan remained. Something or someone was crying loud sobs in her head. She had no idea who that could be but whoever it was seemed to be in tremendous pain. Legolas looked at her so long, that she seriously considered taking her words back. And just when the idea was at its most alluring, his voice rang, slow but cold as ice. "Is that all you have to say to me, Irulan?"

To her amazement she held his gaze for a moment. Then nodded ever so slightly.

Still he remained, tense as a bowstring, heavy disbelief pulsing from him. A moment passed. A minute passed. A century passed.

And then he turned around, gave her a long, last painful look, and barely a moment later, turned completely to walk away. Legolas walked away from her. After what felt like ages upon ages of battle, centuries of struggle he walked away. And somehow this time it didn't look as if he meant to return.


	3. Brooding About Life and Love

To everyone – thank you! I will try to reply your mails personally, but it might take some time.

Once again, I have to warn you for the slower pace. Those who will get restless to see Legolas and Irulan together in every chapter, will be disappointed – things will evolve a bit more slower than that. Mainly because I have a lot to build up before the action starts.

Since I know that you will ask – Russel, in my mind, looks like Hugh Jackman. That might be useful, because I think his actions and role will match those looks in this story.

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'Every year the same damn thing!' she thought as she reached for the upper shelf. She sighed and began to read the label. "Extra strong...for all aches related to medication...." She sniffed and threw it into her basket, amongst the others. 'Humanity is about to land on Mars but yet we cannot cure the friggin common cold!' was her bitter thought as she shuffled down the aisle.

A few minutes later she was out of the drugstore, the plastic bag in her hand, as she walked down the crowded street. It was evening and she shivered a little as the heat of the outside hit her and settled on her skin. New York was painted in summer colors and gave out joy and giddiness. Things that had nothing to do with Irulan at the moment.

Drifting with far different thoughts, she didn't hear her name called and only woke from her reverie when a hand caught her arm. Startled, she turned, and for a few moments, could seriously not place the face in front of her. "Irulan!" exclaimed the woman, then smiled broader. An instant later she found herself in a gentle, warm embrace.

"Cate?" she managed to say in return, and immediately thought 'How stupid! Of course it's Cate!' "Oh my God!" she added with a higher pitch. "Cate!"

The woman chuckled and pulled Irulan into another soft embrace. "I found you in this crowded city!"

Irulan rolled her eyes, her smile turning into a grin. "Shouldn't be too hard! I'm the only one with the flu in the whole of New York!"

Cate held her hand and squeezed it gently, giving Irulan an overall look. "Look at you! You look fabulous!"

Irulan shook her head at the compliment. At the moment, she knew that she looked far from fabulous. Someone bumped into her and that's when she realized that they were standing in the middle of the sidewalk. She began to walk, pulling Cate along. "Do you have time?" she asked, her eyes scanning the surroundings for a cafe.

"Ah...I have that more than anything else," was the soft reply. Stunned for a moment, she turned to glance at Cate, who wore one of her mysterious smiles. Another grin bloomed on her face. Some things were so hard to get used to! Though Irulan had breached her principles for Cate and Analoth and had played the primary role in the granting of their wish, her mind still hung on to a mortal Cate!

They arrived in a small cafe and sat down to talk. Time flew by as they refreshed memories of old days. Once, Irulan had had a very close relationship with both Cate and Jonathan. It had ended when she returned from England and had thrown all who were somehow related to her bad experiences over there into an attic, then had locked the door. Though they had tried a few times at first (Irulan suspected those trials to be out of sympathy and God knows she didn't want the sympathy of anyone), upon several refusals on her behalf, Cate and Jonathan had seemed to be too busy being in love, to call upon her. And it had made Irulan feel increasingly uneasy and irritated – for she had been afraid to feel envy in the face of it.

"And you? What of you?" Cate asked suddenly, waking Irulan from her daydreaming.

"Me?" Irulan croaked, then wiped her nose with the tissue in her hand. "I'm fine. Much better." She received a long look in return. No wonder, since she looked like trash. "Really!" she added with a silly urge to convince her.

"Irulan," Cate sighed in her usual graceful ways, "I am your friend. I have seen you better. Far better."

"Yeah. When I was 5 pounds less!" she joked, rolling her eyes.

"No," Cate said, smiling with those impossibly grass green eyes shining like emeralds. "Once you looked as fabulous as I thought no woman could ever look."

"Really?" was the dry reply, followed by a sneeze. "When was that?"

"When you came to us that day...when you walked on the lawn, your hands in your pockets." Irulan froze, unable to look up. "That day in England, by Lord Legolas' castle you looked as radiant as the sun, and brighter than the moon." Their eyes met, and for a moment time seemed to freeze for Irulan. Even her sickness moved to the background and became merely a slight buzz of irritation. "What has been taken from you, my friend?" was the solemn addition.

'Ah!' Irulan thought, a dry, bitter humor waking in her. 'To have had a prime, and to have all know it! What torture! Though I may get to clean my own memories, others will never forget. It is a stain that I will never be able to wipe off.' "Nothing has been taken from me," she sighed finally, reminding herself that this was her friend, not a stranger. "Nothing that I haven't given up by my own will."

Cate exhaled and leaned back in her seat. "We talk about it a lot. Analoth and me."

"Please!" she groaned, fishing out another tissue. "You were the only ones left who did NOT put their noses into this affair. I hate to see that change." The other woman only smiled at that and remained silent for a moment. "So how is it?" Irulan countered after a hasty mouthful of her coffee. "Immortality."

It was a rather brazen question, but her urge to divert the topic had been too great. Fortunately Cate only smiled in return. "I don't know," she said and seemed for the first time unsure of herself. This intrigued Irulan, but she kept her silence in hope that her friend would continue. "I haven't really come to grasp it, yet. I mean...it hasn't been long enough for me to observe the things associated with it."

"You mean nobody around you shriveled and died, yet?" was Irulan's dry statement and woke a gasp of shock from the other. "What?" was the mildly innocent question.

"Don't speak so," Cate said a long moment later. Irulan, whose lips were already forming a sly smile, froze at the tone that sounded foreign on someone as gentle and soft as Cate. "Don't...speak so," she replied with a whisper.

"I'm sorry," she said...not sure what she was sorry for. All right, so maybe it was a bit too rude to say it like that...but certainly that was the truth of it.

"I did not choose it to watch my friends and family die." Irulan now began to feel disturbed that her seemingly harmless sarcasm had somehow injured her friend, making Cate speak in such a bitter tone. Irulan opened her mouth, but got no chance to counter. "I chose it to be with Analoth."

The last sentence came out so small and so weak that for a moment, she felt sure that Cate would cry. Which would be silly, to say the least. What was there to cry about? And yet...there was a certain fear...a doubt in her tone. It was only after several moments of staring at the slim woman before her, who had her eyes fixed on the coffee mug between them, that Irulan began to sense Cate's remorse. It was nothing else but guilt! Guilt to choose the cure for a disease that no one around her would ever survive. "Cate," she began, trying to sound serious and far from sarcastic this time, "I know that. I didn't mean to..."

"No, I know," the other sighed and cut in once more. Very strange for someone as patient as Cate to repeat such intervention. "It's just..." She bit her lip for a moment, "Irulan, would you ever consider it?"

The question caught her completely off-guard. She blinked and stared. Then blinked again. "Consider what?"

"Immortality of course," Cate whispered, as if speaking to a child.

"Oh," she said and stared some more. "I...no."

"But why? You can do so much for humanity!"

"Is it me or this conversation a bit...off-topic?" Irulan said and shifted in her seat with unease.

"I always meant to ask you. But could not bring myself to, for this or that reason. Please...it would mean so much to me to know!"

Now even more nervous, she exhaled in mock frustration. "I told you my answer – no. I don't care about humanity. Hell, I can barely take care of myself!" She grunted with discomfort, throwing a glance around the cafe. "I have no just reason for such a thing," she finished finally.

Cate nodded. "And thus my own discomfort." She looked up to meet Irulan's eyes once more. "You, the heir of a great man and a woman of much skill will not accept it. What is my justification, then, for receiving such a gift?"

"What?" Irulan said, rather baffled. "Wh...That is a ridiculous thing to question!"

"Why should it be?" was her cool reply. "If immortality is a gift to be granted sparingly and wisely...wouldn't it be fair that people like you received it –even ASKED for it- while people like me shouldn't? The truth is," she continued with a tired voice, "I don't know if I did it for the right reasons."

"What stupid gibberish is this?!" she protested. Cate did not reply. "You did the right thing," she tried again, still sounding patient and soft. "You did it for love! What greater reason could there be? You know that love justi..."

She bit her tongue and stilled herself. Cate looked up, then and Irulan did not know how to interpret that look. "Does it really, Irulan?" she said finally. "Does it justify past mistakes? Poor judgment? Blind passion?"

There  it was again! The issue of Legolas. 'EVERYONE is on his side!' Irulan thought, almost bitterly, before she let out a frustrated sigh. "Look Cate..."

"Just answer me."

Their gazes locked again and for a while none spoke. "I don't know, anymore," Irulan said finally, and it came out too flat.

"Yes you do," was Cate's soft reply. Her hand reached out and found Irulan's, gently grasping it. "You do."

The hour after that felt awkward and sullen. Irulan felt disturbed and had no idea why she felt so. Cate, too, seemed a little embarrassed to have shown so much emotion or to have made such bold remarks about Irulan's life. They said their farewells and walked away from each other. Still, the conversation left its residue in her heart. No matter what she did, Irulan could not help but roll the idea of love, duty and immortality around in her mind. Over and over again, until it became something strange and intimidating – a shadow in dark water, a rustle in a forest. She ignored it and walked on, determined not to show her fear in the face of it.

* * *

"What on earth is wrong with you?!"

Irulan moaned in frustration and coughed into the crumpled napkin in her hand. "Nothing. Everything is supercool, as you can see, Anne." From the corner of her eye she could see Anne crossing her arms on her chest and she barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm sick, that's all," Irulan said before a flood of scolding could come her way.

"And why, may I ask, is that?" was the dry question.

Irulan sneezed into the napkin, then dragged herself out of the chair to shuffle her way towards the garbage can in the kitchen. She sighed as she sank back into her chair and fished out another tissue from the box. Anne was still giving her a scrutinizing glare, but Irulan pretended to be fascinated by the inscriptions on the paper tissue box.

Finally the blonde woman sighed with frustration and stomped over to the stove. She poured the boiling water into two mugs and placed herbal tea bags inside before she placed one before Irulan and sank into the chair across from her. "What happened, Irulan?" was her late and tired question. "The truth, please."

The brunette threw her a glare. "Okay...this is the thing. It is 90 degrees outside, right? And inside in the office it's like...damn...50! It's freezing! And every time you walk out it's like an invitation to sickness! Heat, cold, heat, cold -..."

"Irulan!" the other cut off, giving her a scolding look over the brim of her own mug.

"It's true, damn it!"

"Stop it already! It may be true but that only explains the coughing and the sneezing." Irulan raised an eyebrow to that. "However," growled Anne and leaned slightly forward, "it doesn't explain your grumpiness. You're obvious efforts at avoiding me. Your obsession to lock yourself into this house!" She threw up her hands in the tiny kitchen. "What do you take me for? I am your best friend. I know every little crevice of that little brain of yours."

"Really?" Irulan asked sheepishly. "How fascinating. Then maybe you also know what I am so DEARLY trying to hide here!" was the mocking addition.

Anne gave her a silent look. "Did you see Legolas lately?"

Irulan almost spit out the tea in her mouth and with the effort of keeping it in, began to cough wildly. Anne neither said, nor did anything and just remained utterly still, watching the other woman battle with herself for minutes. Finally, wheezing from the effort to breathe again, Irulan swallowed a couple of times, sneezed into the napkin, and croaked "WHAT?!"

"Can we please just skip this boring part of you denying and me pressing it out of you?" Irulan gave her a long, agape stare and Anne looked back with raised eyebrows. "When did you see him?"

Irulan shrugged and took another sip from her mug. "A week ago or so."

"I am assuming the usual?" Anne said, biting her cheeks. Irulan regarded her with irritation. "Which means you scolded him as if he were a little child, rejected, refused and declined and then walked away?"

To Anne's surprise the reaction to that was not frustration but...sorrow. Irulan pursed her lips and concentrated on her herbal tea. Thank God she was too sick to taste it-for it seemed to be horrible to say the least.

"Irulan?" Anne nudged much gentler. "What happened?"

"Nothing," she sighed finally. "You are right. That's what happened."

An uncomfortable silence crept between them. They sat there, listening to the passing vehicles to the street and the noises of the summer crowd. They listened to the ticking of the clock and the humming of the refrigerator. To all the foolish, needless things. "I don't think he'll call again," Irulan said finally, almost with a whisper. She did not hear it, but there was something akin to terror in her voice.

"You know he'll never give up," Anne said softly.

Irulan smiled a bitter smile and shook her head. "Not this time. I think it's...over." She swallowed softly and placed the mug on the table between them. It felt over. An era felt gone, completed. A century had turned. A road had been walked upon. A dream had ended upon waking.

"Why do you say that, Irulan?"

She massaged her face and coughed into the tissue again. "I know it is. He is with Amanda now," she finished dryly.

"With WHOM?!"

Irulan blinked and gave the shocked woman a glance. "Some woman. She turned up when we were talking."

Anne gave her a long, disbelieving look. "So? Doesn't mean they are together."

Irulan chuckled a little. "Trust me. They will be."

"That's impossible!" protested the other. "Legolas loves you. Nothing and no one can replace that."

"Who is talking about replacing?" Irulan sighed; annoyed that Anne was prodding her in the matter. "He is moving on, that's all."

"Nonsense! Elves don't 'move on'."

Irulan gave her a long, penetrating look. When she finally spoke, her voice was stern and low. "Yes they do." A moment passed between them. "In fact," she sighed, slightly leaning over the table to play with her mug, "they are masters in moving on. That's how they survive. How they survive everything and everyone."

Their eyes met again and Irulan almost felt amused by the heavy disbelief in her friend's gaze. How much faith she had in Legolas! And rightly so, too.

"I simply don't believe it," Anne waved the argument away finally. "Lord Legolas is not like that."

"Believe what you will," Irulan sneezed and got up to throw out her tissue. "I KNOW it. I...I feel it," she finished with a whisper.

"How so?" Anne whispered incredulously.

Irulan retrieved another tissue, blew her nose into it and shrugged once more. "He is beginning to give up on me. In his heart, I mean. I can feel it." No need to say that said feeling was not as pleasant as it sounded. No need to explain that it brought a good amount of pain with it.

"Not that I can BLAME him!!" Anne yelled finally and the unexpected sound made Irulan jump and bang her leg against the table. "Enough Irulan! I mean...ENOUGH! If you can't find it in yourself to forgive him after all he has done...you are not the person I thought you were!"

"I forgave him AGES ago!" Irulan yelled back finally, feeling the blood rush to her face.

"Oh THAT must be why you were treating him so nicely!"

"I can't be with him, Anne! I can't!"

"Why the hell not?!"

"Because....because I can't!"

"You better explain this to me!" Anne growled and Irulan looked up to see a rather dangerous expression on her face. An expression that said that Anne was at the end of her patience.

"Look," Irulan sighed, trying not to look too intimidated, "...elves are...they are so passionate! And so dominating! I mean...you KNOW that! You know that with Legolas it's either black or white. It's never a little of this and a little of that. Never!" She only received a passive look in return. "I know what you think. He is gorgeous. He is an elf. He is in love with me – bam, the problem is no more! I swear at times I feel like NO ONE understands me."

"Then MAKE me understand," Anne whispered hotly, leaning towards her.

Irulan gave her a long look. "You know me better than any other human being on this planet," she murmured, her gaze taking in the determined expression of Anne. "And yet you don't see me for what I am. You don't see how hard it is for me to give up being 'me'." Anne opened her mouth for a reply, but Irulan was faster. "No! It IS giving up myself! You refuse to see Legolas for what he really is, but that doesn't change the truth, Anne."

"What is he?" was the tired question. "All I see is a man in love."

"Wrong!" Irulan exclaimed. "Wrong! Right there, you have betrayed yourself! Because you insist on seeing the man in him. But he is no man!" Their eyes locked again and Anne was baffled by the anger in those brown orbs. Never before had she thought how much it must hurt Irulan to be so judged by her best friend, who had no experience with elves on this level. And now that she discovered it, a certain shame rose in her. Anne knew nothing about elves! Nothing on this sort of a personal level, anyway. And she knew almost nothing about Irulan's relationship with Legolas. Other than the fact that he was obsessed with her and that Irulan was obsessed with her independence, that is.

Of course the dreadful happenings with Baeron were no secret to her. And God knows it had cost Anne enough begging to re-establish her relationship with Irulan on trusted grounds, once more. Irulan had been very cold and withdrawn for a very long time, especially with people who were in this or that way related to the incident. She had avoided all elves and even Anne, simply because she was furious, heartbroken and afraid and wanted to stuff Baeron's memory as far away as possible to grant herself a tiny corner to heal.

First, that had seemed absurd to Anne. She had even felt a bit jealous – after all, who was Baeron to Irulan that Anne was not? Anne had been with her for more than half her life, knew every little mesmerizing and irritating fact about Irulan and had shuffled through life either carrying her, or being carried by her. Baeron was just an elf who had spent a few days with HER best friend. But then Haldir had explained to her what Sharing could do and how Irulan and Baeron had established a bond under Legolas' frightening shadow that was far more than anyone would give credit for. He had opened a window into her life and to her, he had been a savior when everyone else had manipulated her – and that "everyone" of course, included Anne. Anne could not object to that. After all, Baeron had probably been the only person who kept complete and absolute honesty with Irulan – no matter how short the time span.

Anne had decided to wait, then. She had watched Irulan lean more and more on Russel – her other oldest friend (though not as old as Anne), probably because he had no clue of the happenings and represented an avenue that was clean from those incidents. Anne, Russel and Irulan were inseparable. They always had been. And it seemed like no matter what, they always would be. So in time, Anne was allowed into the circle as well and their friendship as a trio had grown stronger for it. Plus, no need to mention that even though Russel was incredibly close to both Irulan and Anne, he was still a step farther back, for he knew nothing of elves and Irulan's heritage. Of her crisis he only knew that Irulan had had an affair with a certain Heath Greenleaf and that it had ended with the death of another guy, Adam Greymane. Too loyal in his bonds, he would never come out to dig up an investigation or anything of that sort, so it had been all right to tell him. But telling the nature of elves? Now that was too big a secret to tell. Even to someone as loyal and close as Russel. Therefore he remained blissfully ignorant to it.

Now that her mind had done a full circle on past matters, Anne realized that all in all, she knew nothing of Legolas and Irulan's intimacy. She knew that Legolas was doing everything in his power to win Irulan back and that Irulan was skirting around his tactics with clumsy, yet effective counter-moves. And often she had only dismissed these efforts as "caprice". Who, in her right mind, wouldn't want a man like Legolas?

It was understandable for strangers to think so. But Anne was no stranger. She should have known better. She should have given Irulan at least the benefit of the doubt and for once tried to understand WHY her friend was fighting as dearly as she was, instead of dismissing it as some female whim. The shame returned and Anne exhaled in frustration, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she managed finally.

Irulan said nothing and instead, continued talking, oblivious to Anne's baffling discovery of certain facts. "YOU were the one who once urged me to think of myself, of my independence first, and THEN of my relationship with Legolas." True enough! The blonde woman just threw up her arms in a gesture of defeat. "You said that I should set the pace. That I should make the decision. You were right then. You are wrong now."

"All right. Granted. I am wrong. But then....DO set the damn pace, Irulan."

Instead of exploding with fury, Irulan gave her a bitter smile. "And that is, Anne, why you cannot understand me in this matter. Because no matter how many times I have said it, still you will not see that I can NEVER set the pace with someone like Legolas."

The other woman merely nodded, pursing her lips. True enough, Legolas was not an easy matter to handle. He was not a machine that ran on male psychology. He was far more complicated than that. "What is it that you fear so much?"

Irulan sighed and looked into the dark liquid in front of her. "That I will be...I will be some...slave to him." At the aghast expression of her friend, she waved her hand dismissively. "Not a SLAVE perhaps. Wrong word. But..." she exhaled in frustration. "Legolas is so used to having everything his own way! And I don't blame him – it is what he has been experiencing for longer than my mind can conceive! But...I cannot...no – I WILL not be with him because he is irresistible or persuasive or downright dominant. I will only be with him if I feel that I made the choice and that I can undo it if I want to."

"I can understand that," was the slow reply.

"Call me bold, but I want to be an equal to him – not someone he can tuck under his wing, polish with admiration or gently nudge into a luxurious life," Irulan continued, encouraged by the response she was getting. "I don't want him to dazzle me, spoil me to death or exhaust me with his love. I want him to acknowledge me. I want him to see me for what I am, and know that he can only have me if I want it to be so. And that no manipulation in this damn world will ever make that possible!"

"You want him to be a Man," Anne said slowly, understanding dawning on her, "not an elf."

Irulan nodded, a painful expression on her face. "I want him to be a man. Nothing more. But don't you see? Don't you see how unfair it is to ask that? He can never BE a man. He is an elf. Forever. Who am I to demand such an ugly thing from him?" Her expression deepened further and for a moment Anne was afraid that she would start to cry. "Who am I to say 'Forget everything you knew. Undo the man that you are. And be something more to my liking'?!" She locked eyes with her friend once more. "Am I really that selfish, Anne?"

Anne held her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You are not selfish, you stupid cow," she said gently. This confession was taking too much intensity. She did not want to spin things into an uncomfortable arena. "But you are very greedy, Irulan."

Irulan rolled her eyes in mock frustration and wiped her teary eyes with her sleeve. She seemed glad to have resurfaced from deeper waters. "Right!"

"You are," Anne mused, smiling now. "You want it all. Didn't your mother tell you that you cannot have it all?"

"Oh she did, believe me", was the frustrated sigh.

Anne leaned forward again, the glimmer in her eyes returning. "Of course Legolas isn't perfect! Thank God he isn't! That would be very...scary. The trick is, Irulan, to see the flaws, but to remind yourself that he has far more good things about him to make up for that." She sighed, watching her friend take another sip from the tea. "I understand your fear better now. And I'm sorry for not seeing it before. Typical me."

"Typical", was Irulan's dry reply and made Anne smile again.

"But...try to understand my point too, then. Accept him. Accept him as much as you can and what you cannot accept, let him suffer for it." Irulan laughed despite herself and Anne joined her. "I mean it! Give him a second chance, Irulan. I believe he HAS changed a lot."

"I can't," Irulan murmured, shrugging off her discomfort. "He is gone."

"Would you do so if he returned?"

Irulan locked eyes with Anne. "Don't you dare to-.."

"Hey! No accusations! I asked a simple question. He might never return, fine," Anne said meekly, "but I don't care about that..." What a lie! "...What I care about is YOUR reaction. Would you?"

Irulan didn't answer and bit her lower lip. That was all the answer Anne needed. Both knew that she was lying when she chose to speak again. "What I think is not important anymore, Anne," she sighed almost inaudibly. "The truth is, he deserves better. Far better. I was only torturing him." She locked eyes with her friend and sneezed into the tissue before continuing. "I'll be all right. Legolas will be fine. Trust me...Amanda is a good thing. For the both of us."

'Sure,' Anne thought in amusement as she nodded in pretend confirmation. 'And pigs have wings, lions neigh and elephants are amazingly talented in the art of friggin ballet.'

* * *

"Brooding about the intricacies of life again, my Prince?"

A sincere smile spread on his lips. He did not turn right away, letting the joy of her presence come over him. "Who am I to know the intricacies of life, dearest Arwen?"

He turned, then, and there she was. True enough, Arwen was beautiful beyond description. So much that it seemed almost unfair for any creature to be like that. But Legolas rarely saw it anymore. He saw something far more precious whenever his gaze found the Evenstar: He saw who she really WAS. A woman of incredible love and dedication. Fearless and loyal to the core. So tender...like the faintest morning sun and yet so determined, like the foundations of the castle she had chosen to live in.

"You cannot fool me," she said playfully, her smile blooming further. "I know that expression. Aragorn used to practice it often enough." The Prince bowed his head slightly, as if accepting defeat and she laughed a crystal clear laugh, walking up to place her hand in the crook of his arm. "Then he decided to be king, husband and father..." she mused, urging him gently to continue the walk he was having in one of her gardens before she arrived, "...and alas, he was cured absolutely. Since now there is no more time for such idle musings."

"I see where this is going," Legolas chuckled, softly shaking his head. "And I do not like it."

"It takes a lot of hard work and practice to like the truth," Arwen said playfully. The garden opened up before them as they walked in it, with leisure and faint steps. It was immaculate and for a moment Legolas did not know why he liked it here so much more than in the far more extravagant gardens and valleys of Rivendell. The answer was simple and quick – it had no elven air to it. And neither was it a simple, mere human garden. It was a strange mixture and a new breed. And ultimately intimate and warm, like the Princess of Rivendell herself. "So many in the palace adore you," she said, not ready to let go of the matter yet. Legolas smiled to himself. Arwen was younger than he was, but a woman nevertheless – she had married and become a mother and therefore felt like it was her place and duty to guide Legolas through the maze of love. "But you have shown interest in none of them. I can only hope that the reason is another, whom you will not share with us."

"What is this plant?" he said with mock interest, reaching out to touch the leaves of a vine. "I do not recall seeing it before."

Arwen playfully slapped his hand away and he chuckled, giving her his innocent look. "Do not try my patience, dear Prince. Aragorn has used up all of it." Legolas grinned, then. He loved the fact that Arwen, the cold Princess and even frostier Queen, would drop those barriers in his presence and always assume the role of younger, playful sister. First he had believed this to be her usual action whenever she was alone with those she had known for long. But his observations had revealed that Legolas alone had the privilege of such intimacy. And it thrilled him beyond anything. She urged him to continue the stride and he complied, keeping his silence because he knew that it would frustrate her. Arwen, though, didn't sound frustrated when she picked up the conversation once more. "Some say you are too aloof, too vain. That this is the reason why you will not let any woman into your heart. Others say you fear such commitment..." She glanced at him and he looked back, his expression giving no hint. No doubt that these "some" and the suspicious "others" were rather close company, such as Aragorn, Gimli and the hobbits. "I know you better than that."

"Then you must know that I am neither vain, nor afraid," he sighed. "Just not as blessed as you are, perhaps."

Arwen did not reply for a moment. "You are not a warrior first, Legolas," she said slowly. "You are a man. Your fight is over. The war has ended. All your life, you have fought for some cause – whether it be Mirkwood or Middle Earth. Don't you think that you deserve to experience other things, as well?"

"I don't know what else to be," he murmured, his gaze locked to the chiseled path they were treading on. "Again, Arwen, I think I was not as blessed as you are." It was not sarcasm, neither blame. Only the truth. Arwen had grown up as a Princess and though the unrest had stirred in Middle Earth in these latter years, at least most of her life had been the life of comfort and tranquility. Legolas, on the other hand, had grown up as defender of Mirkwood and Mirkwood was nothing like Rivendell – his whole life he had been nothing else but a warrior, a soldier, a man who was under the burden of protecting his land and his people. It had made him into what he was and for that, there was no cure.

She nodded absent-mindedly to that. "But you can change. You can learn. Nothing but peace awaits us now. You are free, my friend."

He halted, inhaling with mild disturbance. True, peace was here. And for a warrior like him, that was a very strange thing – he wanted peace. All his life, he had yearned for it with great passion. But now that he had it, he realized that he was unprepared for such a thing. What good was a man of war and battle in a time that held –thankfully- no violence and no injustice? He had not told anyone, but he felt out of place. Unneeded. Unnecessary. There was Valinor, no doubt. But that was even worse – endless and infinite peace. Something that excluded him, though he yearned for it with childish enthusiasm. He wanted to feel needed. He wanted to feel of some use. He did not know it yet, but it would be the ultimate reason – second only to his overwhelming desire to put a dying friend's heart at ease- that would keep him in Middle Earth while most of his kin left these shores for good.

"Gimli told me you mean to travel with him," she said then, sensing his disturbance and eager to still it.

Legolas smiled again. "With HIM?!" He chuckled, shaking his head. "He offered to come with ME!"

Arwen smiled a bright smile when he laughed and a sigh of relief escaped her lips. "I fear that he will bring back many tales in which he saves your life over and over again, Thandruillion."

The Prince gazed down at her in amusement. "I would be a small victory for our mighty friend. The tales will include a large number of others, rest assured."

She chuckled and took a step back, giving him a long look. "Ah Legolas!" was her statement of a sigh. "How I wish you could share my happiness! You shared so much of me. My fear. My grief. My sorrow. And yet this door seems closed to us."

Legolas smiled, reaching out to her and she took his hand with graceful enthusiasm. "I have hope on my side, Arwen. It does not seem impossible to me that one day a woman might brush away this dirt and dust on me and make something worthy out of me."

"So there is no one yet?!" she said, finally having squeezed the reply out of him.

He groaned in mock frustration. "You are too sly for me."

Arwen waved away the statement. "You have seen me stunned into a grinning fool by the powers of love. It is only a just wish that I see you like that, as well!"

Legolas laughed a clear laugh that echoed in the garden. True enough, he had had enough chances to tease Arwen's incredible infatuation with the Ranger when she seemed to be hopelessly besotted with him. It was only what an elder brother would do to a sister, so he felt no regret. "And here I was, thinking you were concerned for me, when you were concerned for your own cunning pleasures."

"I will be concerned for you till the day I die, you fool," she said then, reverting back to little sister mood from the matchmaking queen and gave him a fierce embrace. How could she know that she would die with only Legolas witnessing it, a different woman from what she was now – bitter and alone? And how could he know that he would watch her passing – and with her, the only true sisterly, deep, affectionate love he had shared for another being?

The garden was bright and the days were long – the pain and parting was too distant predators yet to cast a shadow on their joy. They stood in blissful ignorance of the future, one soul with another, savoring the feeling of loving someone and being loved in return.

-

-

The knock on the door woke him from his reverie. He sat, startled for a moment, and not knowing what that sound was. First off, he had drifted into a very, very distant past and by the looks of it, so effectively, that once again he had surprised himself with the intensity of his daydreaming. 'Is this how elves age?' he thought ruefully. Lately, these episodes of his attention and focus slipping from his grasp have been too many in number and it had begun to irritate him. Secondly...who would knock on his hotel door? A visitor would not be let through and no doubt that the hotel staff itself would have called him instead of marching to his room.

The knock came again and Legolas rose immediately, curious of this visitor.

"Surprise!" she grinned when the door opened.

And it truly was one. His eyes widened slightly, then quickly moved from head to toe and back. "Anne!" was the delightful reply. "Surprise indeed!"

Anne grinned and to Legolas' shock, jumped up to hug him heartily. He chuckled with amusement, then gently embraced her back. "See, I can find people, too!" she laughed into his shoulder, then drew back to give him a good look.

"Please use that skill more often," Legolas said gently. A moment later he stepped away to offer her entrance. "Come in!"

Anne leisurely strode into the living room section of the hotel. She moved to stand in the middle of the chamber and gazed around while Legolas closed the door and waited behind her in polite silence. "Nice room," was all she said and the elf chuckled in response. "I thought you were going to buy a house in New York," she added suddenly, turning to glance at him.

Legolas looked baffled for a moment. But it was a moment only. "Yes, I meant to," he said as he walked to the couch, breaking eye contact. "...but maybe that won't be such a great idea. The hotel surely serves my needs."

He remained politely standing, expecting her to take a seat but Anne just began a lazy stroll in the room instead, inspecting the articles and the pictures on the walls. A long moment passed and it was him who broke the silence. "Haldir must have told you where to find me."

"Hmmmm-mmm," she hummed and continued her tour. "He also called to let the front desk know I was coming and should be allowed to walk up. I wanted to see your face when you opened the door."

"I hope that the reason for your visit is the mere desire to see me again," Legolas said with a beguiling smile. "But if I can aid you in anything, you know that it will be my pleasure."

"Oh I know," she laughed, finally turning to him and giving him a long, overall look. "But...I have come just to see you." Legolas nodded with a blank expression on his face. Though a deft disbelief emanated from him. "You think I came because of Irulan," Anne laughed and the elf looked up, surprised at the remark. She laughed again. "She told me about your last...meeting. But don't worry, my visit has nothing to do with her."

"Oh," he said, then sighed and diverted his eyes.

"As a matter of fact, I think you did the right thing," Anne mused on and approached the chair to sit.

"What would that be?" was his careful question. She sank into the red armchair and he chose to sit on the one across from her, his blue gaze focused on her.

"To give up on her, of course!" was the merry reply.

A sharp stillness overcame the man and Anne sat through it, not diverting her eyes from his gaze. Which was definitely no easy task.

"Is that what she said?" he said finally, his voice low and heavy. There was frustration in his voice. And anger. As well as hurt. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning his elbows on his knees. 'Give up on her' he thought bitterly. How ugly a statement! How idiotic! So unbefitting to the grand feelings they had for each other. So unbefitting to the tender and true love that had bloomed once between them.

"Not really," Anne sighed with mock disinterest and allowed her gaze to wander over the room again. "My deduction. But...like I said - you did the right thing. I mean...there must be MILLIONS of women out there that would appreciate you so much more, Lord Legolas!" Legolas gave her a long, stern, judging look, but kept silent. Anne smiled wider at that. "I mean...people move on, right?"

"I suppose so," was his late reply as he remained as blank as ever.

"Of course they do," Anne said gently, as if speaking to a child. "They give up and they move on." The look that the elf gave her would burn a hole through another, but Anne seemed perfectly oblivious to it. "I always admired elves for their maturity. Our relationships are so...violent. I mean...most men would grow furious and green with envy if their woman chose to be happy with another. But elves are so...understanding and kind!" An exaggerated sigh followed and Legolas chose the moment to deliver a fake, polite smile.

"I understand your concern now," he said finally. He entwined his hands and gave them a long look. A bitter smile came over his lips. Here he was, thinking that Anne had come to convince him for further pursuit! Instead, she wanted him to step out of Irulan's life for good. He swallowed softly, the last remnants of his hope dissolving inside him. "Don't worry," was the more determined addition. "I will not stand in her way any longer."

A short moment passed. It felt so agonizing to sit here and say goodbye. To accept defeat. To come to terms with the fact that true love had brushed by him and would not return. Never again.

"Well that's good then," Anne said slowly, watching the elf with keen interest. "Maybe you are even...MODERN enough to come to the engagement."

"WHAT??!!"

Despite expecting a surprised reaction, Anne almost fell off her chair with the volume of the shout that echoed in the chamber.

Legolas gave her a shocked look that held a certain amount of fury as well. "What engagement?!" he hissed after what seemed like an eternity.

"Well...well I should be...going," she said with a nervous chuckle and rose to leave.

Legolas was looming above her in an instant and Anne had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out in surprise at his speed. "Legolas!" she laughed, now even more nervous, "I thought you said that -..."

"Irulan is getting ENGAGED?" he said, clear disbelief in his tone. "To whom?!"

"Now is a good time to move on and…"

"Nobody is moving anywhere," he hissed, stressing each word. Anne shut her mouth immediately. This was frightening, damn it! All right so perhaps Irulan had been right when she mentioned the unreasonable and uncontrollable passion of elves. Legolas certainly looked both unreasonable and uncontrollable at the moment. "What is going on here?!"

"Nothing!" she said, then took a deep breath and finding it the only thing to do with him standing nose to nose with her, sank back into her seat. "I refuse to talk about it!"

"You refuse?" was the mild awed, gentle question. He slightly cocked his head and gave her a long look.

Anne, instantly remembering that this was no ordinary man and not even an ordinary elf, cleared her throat. "I mean not...not REFUSE maybe but..."

"I don't like being refused," he cut in with a low, careful tone. "I have been refused too many times these last months. My patience is not what it used to be, Anne."

She swallowed softly and watched him return to sink into his seat with catlike grace, his crystal orbs glued to hers. "What is it to you, anyway?!" she seethed suddenly. "You gave up on her!"

Legolas took a deep, slow breath and raised his chin. "What would you have me do?!" he growled finally, his eyes shining with a strange, alien fire. "Should I break into her apartment and kiss her senseless? Maybe then she'll be shocked enough for me to haul her onto my shoulder and carry her to the airport? After that it should be fairly easy to lock her up in the castle, don't you think, Anne?!"

A silent staring issued between them. "Well," she said finally, "now that you've mentioned it..."

Legolas sprang to his feet with impatience and began to pace the room. "I tried all there is to try. Everything! And more! She cannot forgive me. Or rather, she WILL not forgive me. And I can't make her."

"Some great warrior!" Anne huffed and he stopped, once again shocked to immobility at her disregard of his status. "Try harder for God's sake!"

"Harder?!" he said, incredulously. "What should I do?"

"Well I kind of liked that breaking in and kissing scenario."

Legolas bit his cheeks and took a deep breath to calm down. The truth was, he kind of liked that scenario, too. And in his current alarm it sounded more tempting than ever. But certainly that was no solution to the mess they were in. He was just about to say just that when the phone rang. He gave Anne a last glare, then walked over to pick-up the receiver. "Yes?" was the tired question. A moment of silence. "Yes, of course. Don't worry." Another silence. Anne shifted in her seat, giving his back a penetrating look. "No, not at all. I will pick you up at 8 instead." She bit her lip and strained her ears but of course it was impossible to overhear the conversation. "Of course. At 8 then, Amanda. Until then..."

He placed the receiver back and remained as he was, leaning on his hands and exhaling a long, soft breath. A long moment passed before Anne broke it. "Oh NOW I see," she drawled. The man turned to face her, his expression completely blank. "THAT is why you gave up on Irulan!" she added dryly.

"You don't see anything," Legolas said in reply, crossing his arms on his chest. "I never gave up on Irulan. She gave up on me."

Anne nodded slowly, her eyes glued to his. "I better go," was her final statement as she took her bag and made for the door.

"Not yet," Legolas intervened from behind her. "We were talking about the engagement."

She gave him a long frosty look. "I don't think that it concerns you anymore, Legolas. You have obviously more important matters to see to."

Legolas clenched his jaws. It was unbelievable that any woman who knew his real identity dared to talk to him like this! What was more unbelievable, though, was the fact that he was allowing her this! "I decide on what concerns me and what doesn't," he said slowly, his eyes like two pieces of ice.

Anne walked up to him then and if he didn't know better, he would think her attitude threatening. "Very well. For your information," she spat, "it's this guy Russel. An old friend. He always had his eye on Irulan and well...now that she is weak..." she gave Legolas a sidelong glance and smoothly inserted "...and sick..."

"She is sick?!" he exclaimed, a bit bewildered. Anne nodded curtly and then looked away in mock anger. "Why? What is the matter?"

She shrugged with disinterest. "I don't know. She won't tell me."

"What?!" She looked up when he grabbed her elbow. "What do you mean, she doesn't tell you?!"

"Well," she sighed with frustration and took back her arm. "She keeps saying it's the flu. But...the flu in SUMMER?! Please!" No need to say that Irulan got the flu almost every summer. "It sure DOES look like the flu," was her thoughtful addition. But...I don't know...it's been too long. And...ah I don't know! Maybe I'm just making up stories." She glanced at Legolas who was listening to her with horror.

"Why doesn't anyone ever tell me about these things?!" he seethed finally and took a step to stand nose to nose with her again. "I want to see her. Where is she?"

"I'm afraid that's a bad idea."

He gave her a look that would have frozen her soul. If she had one, that is. "I said I want to see her," was the low and threatening warning.

"She is at home, of course," was the mock-exasperated exclamation. "Russel is taking care of her."

It became so dreadfully still in the room that Anne halted and slowly turned to look at the elf. He stood in perfect stillness, but looked like he meant to kill her right there and then. After a long moment of silent staring he moved to grab his wallet.

Anne exhaled a deft breath of relief, but quickly hid her expression when he turned to her once more. "Look...don't say anything in her presence! She doesn't know yet."

"Doesn't know what?" he growled, placing the article in his back pocket.

"Russel told me but she would never suspect it! I mean...they are very old friends." Legolas gave her a long, dry look. "And don't ask him, either," she said hastily, walking up to him to lay a hand on his forearm. "He would kill me!"

For a moment she thought he would say something like "How fitting!" But he merely nodded in return.

Anne sighed again. Should she feel guilty for playing both Irulan and Legolas and this time Russel as well? Especially Russel, who had no interest in Irulan whatsoever and who was about to be crushed like a silly spider? Not at all! "She loves you, you know," she said finally.

Legolas pursed his lips and looked at her hand on his arm. "But she chose another," was all he found to say in his desperation. Irulan was getting engaged! It was the end of the world.

"She didn't!" Anne interrupted hastily. "Not yet. I guess there is still time."

Legolas gave her a wary look and she stared back, swallowing softly. "Tell me that Baeron didn't die for nothing," she hissed finally, an unusual fire in her orbs. The elf froze completely and an expression of utter shock appeared on his features. "Tell me so, Legolas!"

How long time passed he didn't know. But it was enough for him to relive that dreadful era in his head, again. The slice of his life that he had been trying so hard to forget. And that she had unearthed in a matter of seconds. He didn't answer. Instead he walked away and out, as silent and swift as a ghost.


	4. Truce Between Fellow Inmates

Chapter 4. Thank you for the kind reviews. Russel comes in here. I always loved Hugh Jackman and since Russel looks like him, I like Russel even more. Hunks be praised!

...

* * *

_"The sins of my fathers...are sins that bind me to my fate. The greatness of one man and his unfailing bond to another haunts me, though millennia have passed and not even his bones remain any longer. Often I have wondered how their friendship had been and countless times I have imagined to understand such fierce strength of a bond. Now, as it is a loop around my neck, I know what it is. It is a ring of fire. It is impassable water. It is something so strong and rigid, that all luxurious thoughts of denial are stolen from me."_

_"Am I really a toy of Fate, as Baeron used to say? Am I just a piece in a chess game, a threat to some, a victim to others? Will this pain leave me if I surrender and lend myself to it? And the pleasure that comes in return – will it be real? Many times I think that Legolas has even less choice than I have – he, too, is a servant to forces that surpass him in might. No doubt that he must hate this weakness, this inability to resist. I picture us like two caged animals, pulling our chains until we bleed. It is in those moments that I want to reach out and touch him. I want to say 'I understand, Legolas. I understand the pain. The frustration. The weakness. I understand and I forgive you'. But who will understand and forgive me?"_

Irulan's journey entry.

...

"I will go to my Queen now, Legolas," Baeron said in the darkness of the dusty tomb. "Go with yours." Then the block of stone banged shut and Legolas closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he walked on. But he had no queen. He had no one. A terrible dread hung over his head, laughing with sly amusement, mocking and torturing him, but he refused to give in to it. Instead he took a deep breath and tried his best to clear the disturbance from his head.

Before long he arrived at her building door. Thankfully it was open and Legolas walked up the stairs to her apartment. A short, silent inner debate threatened to ensue in him. Had she not told him to leave her for good? She had told him to go to another. And yet here he was, at her doorstep again. How pathetic! How weak! But also...how very natural. Irulan was like a force of nature. There was simply no resisting her. Defeat in the face of something like that was inevitable fate…not weakness.

He rang the bell before he could change his mind.

A moment passed and finally the door opened. To his demise, it was opened by a man. The name 'Russel' gained a face and it was not a good place to gain.

A short staring duel began between them and neither broke it for a while. "Yes? Can I help you?" the other said finally and Legolas clenched his jaws with the intensity of the emotions he was going through. So this man was courting Irulan. HIS Irulan! His eyes perceived the masculine beauty of the other and he felt another pang of jealousy. He was very different from Legolas. Not the smooth, graceful beauty of an elf but the alluring, masculine attractiveness of Estel was in Russel. That only woke another set of rather discomforting emotions and he spoke to clear his mind. "I am here to see Irulan. I heard she is not feeling well."

The other man gave him a suspicious look. "Are you a friend?" He said after a moment of hesitation. Russel knew all Irulan's friends and he certainly would have remembered a man like Legolas.

"No," was Legolas' short and dry answer.

The other man's eyebrows rose to that. After another short silence he said "And who, should I say, has come?"

"Heath Greenleaf," was the cold reply.

Russel blinked to that. "YOU are Heath?" Legolas remained perfectly blank and the other looked from head to toe, then back. When their eyes locked again he saw the embers of anger in the brown orbs. Not surprising for someone who was intending to have Irulan for himself! "Maybe you'll come back later," Russel said dryly. "She should be resting and..."

"I am here to see Irulan," the elf growled slowly, his blue eyes fixing the other. Russel, who apparently saw no reason for the hostility, stared back. "And I don't need your permission to do so."

Before the man could reply in any fashion to that, Legolas pressed himself with unequal fluidity and grace through the door and walked into the room. "Hey!" was all that Russel managed to say before the blonde man, gazing around the chamber and judging that the bedroom lay towards the left, strode there as if the house belonged to him in person. The man uttered a murmur of a curse under his breath, closed the door and made to follow. When he arrived at the bedroom, Legolas was already sitting at the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on the sleeping form lying under the covers. "Listen pal..." he growled and was interrupted again.

"How long has she been ill?"

A short moment of surprise followed. "Well...over a week now. I don't know for certain."

Legolas turned to give him a long glare. "You don't know for certain?"

All right now, who the hell did this guy think he was? Russel didn't like the accusation in that voice. Not a bit. Especially knowing that it was coming from THE Heath Greenleaf. Irulan didn't talk much about him but it didn't take a genius to guess that her heart was broken by this fellow. "You better leave," was the only statement he could come up with as his anger seemed to flare even further. "You will wake her. She needs to rest."

Legolas didn't bother to answer. Instead, he reached out to the medication bottles that were standing beside her bed and began to read through the labels.

'Unbelievable!' Russel thought with both awe and irritation. No wonder Irulan was pissed off by his attitude! He certainly needed a lesson in how to accept a rejection! "Hey!" he said a tad louder, growing rather temperamental now. "I'm talking to you!"

To his irritation, that only served to wake Irulan. Both men waited while she blinked several times and then slowly moved to sit up a little. "Le..." she began, then her eyes glided over his shoulder to Russel at the doorstep. "Heath! What are you doing here?"

He smiled a slow, small smile to that. "I heard you were ill," was all he said. It felt so immensely good to see her again. Though it was perhaps the wrong thing to feel after what had aspired between them, it still felt incredible.

"Sorry, Irulan," Russel growled from behind him, giving her a penetrating look. "I told him that you should be resting but your FRIEND here doesn't much care for such details, I guess!"

Immediately a tenseness rose from the elf and Irulan quickly spoke to break it. "That's all right, Russel. Thank you." The man stared at her for a long moment and she gave him a meaningful look. Finally he accepted defeat and giving Legolas, who had turned to look at him with passive eyes one final look, growled, "Fine. I'll be preparing your lunch." She opened her mouth but he was faster, "And you WILL eat it, Irulan. Or so help me..." He waved a finger at her, then left and closed the door behind him.

A silence followed and finally the elf turned to look back at her. She smiled nervously and he smiled in return. Then he leaned forward and placed a palm against her cheek. It was the first time he had actually touched her ever since their break up last autumn. Irulan felt herself literally grow dizzy with the excitement that single action brought and thought that maybe it was just the sickness. Legolas, too, seemed a little shaken by it, and took a deep breath that suspiciously sounded like a relief. "Why are you ill?" was his late question.

"It's just the flu, Legolas," she managed finally, then took the glass of water from her nightstand. The action thankfully both served to break the contact and the intensity.

For some strange reason that didn't seem to convince Legolas at all. "Have you seen a doctor?"

Irulan laughed and placed the glass on her lap. "Of course not! I'll be fine. I always get sick this time of the year."

He gave her a long, careful look. "I see that as no reason not to see a doctor."

"It's just the flu, Legolas," she said, a bit confused.

"Well how do you know?" was the cautious question.

Irulan sighed and placed the glass back. "Who told you?" she countered, merely to change the subject. She hated it when Legolas began to play mother.

Her change of subject only served to irritate Legolas further, but he bit his tongue. "Anne."

Her head flew up at that. "You spoke to Anne?" was her slow question. He nodded. Then deemed it a perfect moment to gently fold his hand over hers. To his expectation, Irulan seemed too busy with other thoughts to notice the act. He smiled a little wider with the pleasure of it, and kept his silence. "She called you?"

"No," he said as his fingers glided over hers. "She came to see me."

Irulan's eyes grew even wider at that. That damnable woman was meddling in her affairs! Not to mention, AGAIN! There was simply no way Anne's visit could be an innocent act at a time like this. "Oh," she said, still not aware of his grasp on her hand and his gentle caress. Maybe because it felt rather natural. "What…what did she say?"

"That you have been ill for a week," he replied, his voice as soft as velvet. "I came immediately." He pulled her hand to his lips and placed a long kiss on her palm.

That finally woke Irulan up and her excitement exploded inside her. Her heart began to beat with a frantic pace and her face grew hot. Legolas gave her a long look and she stared back in utter shock, but unable to pull her hand away. For a moment she felt confused as to why that was. But the reason became clear immediately: She was glad that he had come. Glad that he had returned. As pathetic as it was, she was glad to see him here, in her house, on her bed, kissing her hand. 'How typical of me,' she thought, amazed at her own feelings. 'A week ago just to see him was an irritation. Now I cannot retrieve my hand.'

"I...I thought...I'd never see you again," she managed to stammer, baffled beyond words at the intensity of emotions that were surging through her.

Legolas' smile died at that and he moved to sit closer yet. "I spoke harshly, too," was his slow statement. He took a deep breath, trying to put his thoughts in an order. It was incredibly hard when he was actually allowed to hold her hand. When he was tempted to lean in and kiss her.

"No," Irulan sighed and finally diverted her eyes to her lap. "You spoke the truth."

"Allow me to take care of you," he said, diving into another alley. His gaze wandered over the little room. "The hotel I am staying at is very comfortable. You can come and..."

"No," she said, then laughed a nervous laugh. "I am more comfortable here."

Legolas pursed his lips. "Then perhaps I can...I can take care of you here?"

She gave him a disbelieving look. "Thank you," she managed finally. "But...I mean...I only have the flu..."

"...and she already has someone to take care of her," Russel cut in as he opened the door.

The elf didn't turn and remained in cold stiffness while the tray was very loudly placed on the other side of the bed. Only when the mattress moved and sank a little, did he slowly turn his head and glare Russel in the eyes. The other man (to his amazement, one must add) merely glared back. "What exactly is your relationship to Irulan?" the elf said and it took both the man and the woman by surprise.

Irulan gave Legolas an agape look but Russel, after having absorbed the shock, took the napkin from the tray without diverting his eyes from the blonde man, and shook it open with evident fury. "I am her friend," he said dryly, his brown eyes burning with a dark fire. "That's more than YOU can say."

"Russel!"

"Irulan, eat your lunch!" Not very apt in grace and etiquette, he almost shoved the tray onto her lap and turned to lock eyes with Legolas once more.

"If you are merely her friend," the elf hissed a moment later, "make sure you stay in your field." His eyes turned a shade darker. "Don't meddle in things that are none of your business."

Irulan took a sharp breath. But Russel's only reaction was to raise his eyebrows. "Irulan IS my business."

Legolas' fingers glided to gain a stronger grasp of her hand as he smiled a dangerous smile and shifted slightly to sit up straight. "You sound a little too passionate for a friend, Russel," was the amused statement.

"Heath," Irulan broke in, then cleared her throat lightly. "Russel and I are best friends. Please..."

"Yes, please leave," the man cut in.

"Be very careful, Russel," the elf growled and out of nowhere, also very unexpectedly a sizzling threat fanned out from him. He didn't speak. Neither did he move. But the sentiment was so powerful and unmistakable that both Irulan and Russel gasped and an unexpected friction settled into the room. Russel's eyes widened both with confusion and fear, and very slowly he moved to get up from the bed. He took another step back, his brown orbs glued to the other one sitting on the bed. "You are not in my league."

Irulan's hand squeezed his then and the elf blinked, his concentration breaking. The terrified look on her face pulled him back to reality and he took a deep breath before he diverted his eyes to look down. The tenseness and danger that had filled the chamber a moment ago, choking its residents began to fade and became a dull throb in the background merely moments later. Russel only gave her an uneasy look, then turned to stare at Legolas again. Legolas, though, did not bother to glance back at him. He met only Irulan's eyes and waited another moment before he brought up her palm up for another kiss. She swallowed softly, a subtle blush creeping up her face. "I will return," was all he said before he got up and strode out the room.

Once again, it took Russel only a few moments to recover. And before Irulan could utter an objection, he was already out the door, banging it shut behind him. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" he growled to Legolas' back. The elf froze, his hand on the doorknob of the outer door, his back turned to Russel. "You cannot barge into her life like this!"

Legolas once again took a slow, deep breath before he turned to face the other man. "And who will stop me?" he said dryly, his eyes wandering over the figure of the other. "You?" The last part had an obvious tinge of amusement to it.

"If I need to," Russel said a long moment later.

"You may certainly try," Legolas smiled.

"You know...," the other seethed and took a step closer, "...if you had ANY feelings for her, you would leave her alone. She has suffered enough."

"And if YOU had any sense," Legolas hissed and took a step himself, standing nose to nose with Russel, "you would step out of my way. Or I will walk over you." Another, but more controlled wave of threat began to pulsate out from him and he watched Russel freeze with the perception of it. 'So he is not as dense as he seems,' he thought deftly and smiled at the unmistakable expression of fear that began to creep into the man's face. "Don't think I don't see through your 'innocence'."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" was the incredulous question.

Legolas gave him a cold stare. "Irulan may be naive. But I am far from it. It would be wise for you to remember that, Russel." Another moment passed and finally he dismissively added, "I will return." The elf gave Russel a last glance before he exited and closed the door behind him.

...

"Irulan...who...or WHAT is that...that THING?!"

Irulan sat, a rather excited and guilty expression on her face, her hands folded on her lap. She gave him a nervous look when he walked into the room and Russel remained on the threshold, his arms crossed on his chest. "You know about Heath," she exhaled finally. "I told you before."

"Yes but I didn't know that you guys are seeing each other again!"

"We are not seeing each other!" she said hotly. Then pursed her lips and began to draw invisible designs on her blanket. "He came to visit because I'm sick. Which, by the way," she added with a darker tone, "he found out through Anne."

"Anne?" a baffled Russel said, and slowly released his arms. "Anne is...she is..." he cleared his throat and scratched his head as he approached the bed to sit on the edge. A set of hasty glances in Irulan's direction were followed by an overly leisure question. "They are...friends?"

"I don't know!" moaned the other. "I'm beginning to think that Anne is NOBODY'S friend!"

"Why would she go and tell him of your condition?" he said a long moment later.

"Like I know!" Irulan spat and crossed her arms on her chest, looking away. "I'm guessing it's because we had an...I mean Heath and I always have arguments...but last week we…didn't part too well. Not that we ever do!" She exhaled in frustration and gave him a desperate look.

"Well he sure enough has no long term memory," Russel growled with irritation.

Irulan smiled a sly smile to that. "Oh Heath has a fairly long term memory," she mused. He gave her a confused look and she smiled broader in return. "He just came to visit, that's all," she sighed finally and leaned back on the headboard.

"Yeah but I doubt that this was his last visit." Irulan remained silent. "Listen to me, Irulan," Russel said slowly, taking her hand, forcing her to return his look. "I don't know him. But I have enough sense to see that this is no ordinary man. He is...he is different." His face gained a concentrated expression as he paused, trying to determine what exactly the difference was and failing to do so. Irulan waited in curious silence. Finally he gave up and turned to lock eyes once more. "I don't know how. But I know. He is dangerous."

"Heath would never do anything to harm me," she said gently.

"Not you," he said, squeezing her fingers, "but everyone around you."

Her eyes widened with surprise. "What?! No, Russel. I mean...I don't know why he was a little hostile today towards you...but he is not a cruel man or anything like that."

Russel gave her a dry look. "You told me yourself how he eliminated every man who was interested in you."

She swallowed softly at that and diverted her gaze on their grip. "Yes, but..."

"And he came here today, pushing himself in as if he had every right in the world to do so!"

"I'm sure he was only worr-"

"And he threatened me."

"THREATENED you?!"

He nodded, a sheepish expression on his face. "The point is, he wants you. He wants you only for himself. Only then he will be gentle and understanding and all that crap."

Irulan sighed and bit her bottom lip. "I know," she mumbled a long moment later. "THAT is why I broke up with him. He is so...intense! They are all like that!"

"They?"

"Yes. You know, el..." Irulan blinked with confusion, then swallowed with haste. "Men like that. All the same."

"Well," Russel said dryly, "I don't know too many men like that, so I wouldn't know. But now that I saw him, I must repeat that he is EXTREMELY frightening." He sighed and gave her a small smile. "And quite impressive, of course. Very handsome, Irulan."

She grinned and shook her head, coughing softly. "I know."

He cocked his head and gave her a smirk. "You should consider a second chance, you know. If a man like that is fighting so hard to gain your liking, it MUST be honest."

"Oh now you LIKE him?!"

"I don't like his methods," he growled and pulled the tray onto her lap again. An expression of dismay came over her face when she realized that there was no escaping the lunch. "Not a bit," was the rather hostile growl of an addition. 'And I will NOT let him hurt you again,' he thought silently as he cocked his eyebrow and shoved the spoon into her hand before he settled to watch her eat.

…

"What is it, Heath?"

Legolas blinked and looked up to meet her eyes. A moment passed and he was quite surprised to realize that he had drifted in his thoughts. Here, in the middle of the restaurant! With Amanda! That was definitely not like him at all. "Nothing," he smiled and took a deep breath. "I have things on my mind."

'Yes...THINGS,' an amused inner voice hissed and he put on a blank mask to prevent his dislike from showing. 'Such as how intimate Russel is with her. And how he gets to stay at her house with her while you are merely allowed to visit. It should have been you, dear Prince. It should have been you to take care of her. Instead, she is with HIM.' A flame of jealousy leapt in him and brushed by his brain. He swallowed and diverted his gaze to his plate that stood almost completely full. 'What are they doing right now, I wonder?' it sighed with mock curiosity. 'Maybe Russel is rocking her to sleep?' He groaned with frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You don't seem well," Amanda tried again. "What is the matter?"

"I am...a little worried. For someone," he added, looking up at her again. She looked immaculate tonight with her black strapless dress and her blonde hair in a loose bun. She looked perfect. Just like him. 'The perfect couple' he thought and almost smiled at the thought. Because no matter how she looked, he felt nothing for her other than a gentle liking and respect.

Amanda bit her lower lip and played with her wineglass for a moment. "You know..." she began, hesitant, "...you seem to have changed. A lot." Her eyes met his briefly before she diverted them again.

"How so?" was the soft question.

She sighed and swallowed, seemingly nervous. "Before, you were so...interested." She chuckled a little and looked away again, unsure how to continue. "I mean...in me. In what I did and where I've been and all..."

"I still am, Amanda," was his gentle statement.

Amanda bit her lower lip again and shook her head, afraid to meet his gaze. "No, Heath." She cleared her throat. "Is there...another?"

It was his turn to look away. His gaze wandered around the restaurant, trying so dearly to still the frantic jealousy in him that simply refused to die. A long moment passed before he spoke again. "Yes."

The next couple of moments passed with Amanda struggling to keep herself from breaking into sobs. She looked up at him and to her utter shock, he seemed completely oblivious to her state, his eyes roaming the room! This was so unlike Heath! The Heath she had known and fallen madly in love with was a man of utter gentleness and always aware of her feelings and her reactions. A man who would pay attention to the smallest detail and use every possible chance to show her that he cared and that he was interested. "Who is it?" she managed to whisper a long moment later. It came out so pained that the elf blinked and met her teary gaze.

Slight surprise sank on his features and he reached out to hold her hand over the table. "Amanda," he said, so tenderly that it only made her desire for crying stronger. "I am sorry. Forgive me. I brought you here and..."

"The woman who was sitting with you that day?" she said, taking a gulp from her wine and taking back her hand. "That...Irulan?"

He took a deep breath, his blue eyes reflecting both hurt and alarm. "Yes," he whispered finally, his gaze fixed on her.

Amanda took a deep breath. Ironically the jealousy that had Legolas in its grip a few moments ago was casting a rather dark shadow on her own soul, too. She had not bothered to recall Irulan before, but she tried now. She was no beautiful woman. Nothing special. And she had been rather rude to walk away from them the other day like that. "Why her?" she whispered, locking her slanted eyes with his once more. And then she asked the universal question. "What does she have that I do not?"

A slight surprise came over him. "Amanda…" he tried.

"I know!" she waved her arm and cut him off before he could speak. She took a deep breath and another sip from the wine. "I know that there can be no 'us'." Legolas kept his silence. "But why her? I'm curious."

He gave her a long look, then leaned back in his chair. "I have come to learn that such things have no reason. At least no reason for our understanding." He paused for a moment. "You should not compare yourself to any other, Amanda," he added gently.

She smiled a bitter smile at that. "Heath," she sighed a moment later, "I want you to know that I don't care." He waited for her to continue. "I mean...if it doesn't...work out..." Judging by the way Irulan had left the table a few days ago and by the fact that Legolas had been having dinner with Amanda for the last week or so, she was certain that things were not great in that department. "…I will be here, that's all I'm saying."

Legolas smiled and took her hand again. "You are a fabulous woman," he said with deep sincerity. "And you have my gratitude. For all times."

She smiled a broken smile. "Maybe I will have more, some day," she countered, a little shyly.

Legolas smiled wider and poured new wine for her. He chose not to answer, in fear of breaking her heart.


	5. Concerning Us

"Gods, Haldir! I mean...he really scared me!" The elf gave her a sidelong glance as if to say "I highly doubt that!" then continued his stroll down the aisle of books. Anne trailed along. "I mean it! He was looming over me and doing that 'I-am-Legolas-the-one-who-shall-crush-you-like-a-fly' thing! It's a miracle I did not fail with my mission right then and there!"

This time Haldir couldn't hold back any longer. "Mission? Anne...where I come from that would have been deemed 'meddling'."

"Well where you are NOW –that, being New York- it's called 'assistance to fools who can't do it themselves'."

Haldir's gaze glided over the open book in his hands. "I have to agree with that much," he sighed, then closed the item and placed it back on the shelf, resuming his walk. "And what is more important is that you succeeded in finally bringing two poles together." He gave her another glance. "Judging that you managed what Legolas failed to do, I assume that your measures must have been...drastic?"

"Eh...not...really," Anne choked out.

The elf turned to her suddenly. "Then how did you convince him?"

Anne, seemingly having gained a sudden interest in the book in front of her nose, her fingers playing with the back of it, didn't answer right away. She had no intention of revealing her lie about Russel to Haldir. No doubt Haldir, too, would engage in one of those 'I-am-Haldir-you-little-mortal-fly!' things and having witnessed it in Legolas, she disliked the idea very much. "I told him that she is sick," she said finally, adding an innocent shrug.

Haldir gave her a long look. "That's all?"

Anne shrugged again. Since it was kind of hard to lie to an elf in the face, she decided to walk around it. "I think that's enough. And it IS true." Anne rolled her eyes despite herself. "True enough it's only the flu. But I might have...made it look a TAD more serious when I told Legolas." She grinned a little to that.

His dubious look continued for another moment, then Haldir went back to his routine of checking books on the shelf in the vastly large bookstore while the woman kept pace with him. "It is not the flu," he said finally, "and Lord Legolas knows that." His bright blue eyes met hers and held her gaze. "That is why he went as he did."

Anne just stared at him. "How do you mean?" Haldir didn't answer right away so Anne grabbed his forearm. "What is it, then?"

"It is a physical reaction to the violation of the Bond," he sighed, picking up another volume from the shelf, but keeping it closed.

"Bond? What Bond?"

"THE Bond," was the reply. "The Bond between Legolas and Irulan, of course."

"They have a Bond?" The incredulous look she received in return made Anne feel like an imbecile. "You mean the Sharing?" she said, a bit impatient.

"That, too. Sharing is a very strong Bond," he nodded. "But they share the Bond of Love. Nothing can break it. Nothing – other than willing surrender." If she was confused before, she was beyond confusion now and she was certain that it was showing on her face. Nevertheless, he seemed patient enough to wait it out, slowly Haldir replaced the book and turned to address Anne. "Why are you so confused?"

"Well...this seems a bit...I don't understand!" she said, maybe a bit too loud. She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "You mean they are in love, yes?"

"Yes, of course they are in love."

"I know that people who are in love or close friends and stuff...they have bonds. They can sense each other's state even if they are far away from one another. Like twins, right?"

He cocked his head –a strange action for an elf, because it made him look almost young and naive- and thought about it for a moment. "Correct. Ties of such nature are very strong and most people experience it in this or that fashion. But the tie that Irulan and Legolas hold is stronger yet." Again, she didn't fully understand and this time he didn't linger with an explanation. "It is hard to explain. But I can tell you this – there is only one true love for each of us. True, we brush by love many times and we might feel very strong feelings for many different people. But their intensity is never the same and the love you share with your true match is incomparable to the love you will feel to any other."

"Soulmates?" she guessed, feeling at a loss again. These sentimental and romantic issues were not exactly Anne's realm. She liked the matchmaking and the meddling, but when it came to sentimentalism, she was not the best of her gender.

He nodded again. "Yes. Only a handful of us are lucky enough to find our true match. But we have many lifetimes to try and can only hope to meet each other more than once."

"How do we know that it's our soulmate?"

This time it was his turn to shrug. "We don't. You cannot know that until you meet him or her."

"But you can love nevertheless?"

"Of course! You will fall in love many times – but never like that. And only when you fall in love like that, will you understand that what you thought was love before, was a silly infatuation compared to what hit you now."

She thought about this for a minute and Haldir waited in silence. "Then maybe theirs is not true love either? I mean, how can we know? Maybe Legolas will meet someone else some day and discover that SHE is his true love?"

The Marchwarden shook his head. "No. When it hits you, you know. You know beyond a doubt. Especially when you are an elf. And if you have any doubt – the Bond proves it."

Again, Anne hesitated. "What is it like, this Bond?"

"Nothing is stronger," Haldir said slowly, gazing down at her.

"Because Legolas is an elf?"

"No. It is equally strong between humans. But the Sharing has, no doubt, added to it."

He turned around and began to walk leisurely again and Anne followed in deep brooding. "But you said it is being violated! So it CAN break."

"I never said it can break. I said it can be violated – by a willing surrender. Irulan, in her heart, has begun to lose hope in Legolas, in their relationship and in herself."

"And it made her sick?!" was the incredulous question.

"Why is that so strange?" Haldir said, looking down at her. "People get sick from grief. From longing. Even from suppressed anger and fear."

"Yes but..." she found nothing to say to that, so she shut up.

"The violation of such a Bond will, no doubt, have its physical toll."

"Will it get worse?" was her next and rather anxious question.

"I doubt it," he sighed, pulling out another book and reading the back cover. "The illness itself is nothing too serious – for a human, anyway. Since elves do not naturally get ill, it might have graver consequences for my kind. But anyway – her body and her spirit will get over it and she will heal in time."

"What will happen to the Bond?"

"I do not know," he said and for the first time sounded concerned. "But," he added a moment later, seemingly eager to delve into merrier avenues, "Legolas seemed very happy when I saw him afterwards. He told me that she did not refuse him this time. It would not surprise me if, with his intervention, she would begin to heal again very soon."

"Thanks to me!" she beamed and Haldir chuckled, shaking his head. "I should have known! So Legolas immediately knew that it wasn't the flu? He knew that she was giving up on him?"

Haldir halted in his steps then. "See...that is the part I am confused about," he mused. A moment later his eyes fixed her and Anne tried with all her might to put an innocent expression on her face. "Why would he assume that? Why would he jump to that conclusion so fast?"

Haldir looked at her with such penetration that she was certain he could see the Russell scenario easy enough. But until he came out and said so, she would not be fooled into admitting it. True enough, now she knew why Legolas had reacted with such panic – after being told that Irulan was getting engaged and THEN hearing that she was also "very" sick, it was no surprise that he had automatically assumed that she was finally cutting her bond with him for good. That –if he didn't act fast enough- the road would be closed to him forever. "Well...they parted really badly last time," she mumbled, waving her arm in a gesture of elaboration. "And...I told you – I made it sound a bit more serious."

Still, he didn't seem convinced. Anne should have known that Divine Luck had a rather large role in her success with playing Legolas. The amount of jealousy and panic that she had managed to wake in him with that silly Russel plot had overshadowed his judgment rather well. No matter how coolheaded a man like Legolas normally was, Irulan was not something like any of those Circle related matters handed out to him every day. It was far more personal and due to his sentiments, he couldn't be objective and rational even if he wanted to.

Haldir, on the other hand, was not personally involved and therefore far harder to persuade. She could tell just by the way he was looking at her that he knew with certainty that Anne was hiding something, and that this particular something was not good. For a moment she thought about admitting it. But to admit that she had intentionally made Legolas jealous was like signing an acceptance for a spanking from Haldir. Because both of them knew and had learned rather recently that Legolas could be dangerous when he was jealous. And deadly, too.

She swallowed and looked away, suddenly unsure about what she had done. Legolas had promised not to tell anyone, so she was safe. Russel, Irulan and Haldir would never find out. It was intended to be a slight nudge – a little push. Soon Irulan would be healed –thanks to Legolas taking his place in her life once more- and therefore Russell wouldn't be needed. He would disappear from the scene and the two could make up for their lost months. And sometime in the future she would tell Legolas. In the FAR future, when things were so good that nobody could be angry with her and instead, would thank her for doing the right thing at a dreadful time like this.

So...it was a good idea. And it had served its deed. But...what was that itch? That discomfort? That unexplainable tinge of fear? Why, if not a foreboding of dark days to come, as a result of such an action?

Her eyes found the elf again, who was still gazing down at her, trying to read what was going through her head. "Is there something you want to tell me, Anne?" he said finally, and it came out both gentle and alluring.

Any other would be tempted to confess when asked in a velvet tone like that. Any other but Anne. "Yes," she sighed. "Where is that lunch that I won?"

Haldir smiled slowly, giving her a last, doubtful look. But after he returned the book to the shelf and locked eyes with her once more, the hesitation was gone and there was only a joyful tinkle in those crystal orbs. He offered her his arm and Anne grinned, placing her hand on it. "I must admit, you earned it."

"This is for laughing when I called you to ask where Legolas was staying and told you about my intention." She gave him a sidelong glance. "You should apologize for that, you know."

Haldir chuckled. "My sincerest apologies!" he exclaimed then. "I will not lie. I thought it was silly, to say the least, to claim that you could accomplish what Legolas had been trying and failing at for more than half a year." Anne grinned up at him and he smiled back. "Where would you like to go?"

"Silly you, Haldir! The MOST expensive restaurant in all of New York, of course!" she laughed. "I will not pass up a chance like this!"

"You deserve no less," he complimented softly as they stepped out of the bookstore and walked down the crowded sidewalk of New York.

* * *

"I have outdone myself again!" he yelled from the kitchen. Irulan grinned to herself, then sneezed into the tissue. Barely moments later Russel strode into the living room with a bowl in his hand. Irulan groaned with mock frustration when he placed it under her nose. "Taste it!"

"Not AGAIN!"

"Oh, come on! You will beg for more, I promise!" She took a spoonful. "Well?"

"It's good, Russell." She looked up at his disbelieving expression and sighed. "It's very good."

"That's it?"

"What else do you want me to say?"

"It's more than good, damn it! It's fabulous." She just stared back at him. "Did you ever have better Italian onion soup, huh?" was the mocking question.

"Well...I had one that tasted fabulous."

"Oh yeah?" he said dryly. "Where? Italy?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

His eyebrows rose to that with clear surprise. He gave the bowl in his hand a long look. "Was it better than this?"

"Well..." began Irulan, trying to walk around the matter, "I mean...I'm sure they had more practice, Russell."

He groaned in frustration and placed the bowl on the table when the doorbell rang. "You are so damn hard to please!" he yelled from the corridor, then opened the door.

Unfortunately, instead of the expected Anne, Legolas stood at the threshold with a bundle of wild violets in his hand. This time, he didn't even linger and just said "Russell," acknowledging him with a slight nod of the head, and walked right in.

The other remained at the door with clear disbelief and only found the sense to bang the door shut a moment after the visitor had glided in.

"Who is it?" Irulan shouted from the living room.

"It's me, Irulan," he said gently, stepping into the chamber. She was sitting on the sofa, her legs stretched out before her and a blanket spread over them. A box of tissues stood on the nearby table as well as a bowl of steaming soup. She looked up at his voice and to his surprise Legolas read a fleeting expression of excitement and glee before she stuffed it away. It was more than he expected and it felt fantastic. He smiled broader and glided to sit on the edge of the sofa. A moment passed between them and finally he placed the bundle of wild violets on her lap. "Your favorite," was the whisper of a statement.

Irulan smiled and nodded, taking the flowers. Their smell was overpowering and hung in the room. "Thank you. Where did you find these? It's way past their time."

"Only in the States," was his amused reply. Irulan grinned and shook her head to that, but said nothing. "You are better today?" he said, inching closer and grasping her hand once more. She gave the grip a look, but didn't pull back her hand.

"I am," she said finally, "and Russell is doing a fantastic job helping me."

Just as she expected, his eyes turned a cooler shade of blue at that and he diverted his gaze to the caress on her fingers. The reaction was expected, yes, but Irulan still didn't understand why her best friend bothered Legolas so much. He was not an unreasonably jealous person and had, for instance, never shown this kind of sharp and edgy mood in the presence of Baeron, who had been far more suggestive.

"Irulan," intervened Russell just then, "you should have your soup."

"Russell," she moaned, wiping her nose with the tissue, "I tasted so much that I must have eaten at least two bowls in total!"

"You don't say," was his dry reply. "Eat one more. It's..." he gave Legolas a sidelong glance, "...it's rather good, don't you think?"

She smiled deftly. "Yes, it's fabulous. I know you don't cook for any woman." He grinned at that leaving the bowl at the table, returned to the kitchen.

"I think maybe we can eat out," Legolas said finally. "Surely you can use...better...food." He gave the steaming bowl a displeased look. "I know very good restaurants."

"Oh quit it," Irulan hissed with urgency, throwing a glance in the direction of the kitchen. "It would break his heart."

She was surprised to see cold blankness in Legolas' face. "So?" was his frosty question.

"So?" said Irulan, baffled. "So I'd rather stay." A fleeting expression of anger pulsed out of him for a moment. "What is it?" she said finally. "I thought you would like Russell. He is a great guy." Legolas said nothing in reply. "He is doing me a big favor, Legolas," she nudged on.

"I could do that favor instead," he said, locking eyes with her, "and it would be an utmost pleasure."

Irulan threw her tissue away and took out a new one. "Legolas," she said slowly, "I have been thinking...about...about..."

"About what?" he said when she would not continue for a few moments.

"About us," she said, feeling very disturbed and relieved at the same time.

"About us," he repeated, stupefied. His eyes twinkled with pure joy before he inched closer yet, her hand still in his grasp. "Yes?" he said, amazed at how excited he felt at the moment. 'Us' he thought, his heart beating furiously. 'She thinks there is an 'us'!' How amazing it was that for months he had fought and struggled and battled and just when he had been ready to give up hope, she had proven him wrong yet again.

"I think," she exhaled and bit her bottom lip, "I think I was wrong in my treatment of you." She looked up to see his fascinated expression. His hair hung loose today and brought incredible youth to his appearance. "It was just...I mean you were so...PERSISTENT!" she whined, looking away. "And I was so...bitter," she finished with a whisper.

"I know that it is hard," he whispered, raising his hand to glide his palm across her cheek. His voice was gentle and soothing. "I have witnessed it before, Irulan." She knew right away that he meant Aragorn and Arwen and merely nodded, failing to speak under the pressure of her own excitement. "A second chance is all I need," he said with urgency, placing a kiss on her hand. "I have changed. You must believe me."

"I believe you," she said, watching him grip her hand with gentle desperation. She took a deep breath. "I'm afraid," she whispered a long moment later. She met his surprised gaze and held it. "Afraid to go through the same things once more."

"You won't," he whispered hotly, inching closer yet. Irulan gave him an uneasy look, then tilted slightly back to keep a comfortable distance.

"Irulan," Russell intervened right then, "drink your soup!"

Legolas pursed his lips. It took an incredible amount of self-control on his behalf not to jump up and strangle the man. He felt her flinch with surprise at the sudden intervention and exhaled in frustration. Legolas stood up very slowly and faced the other, who stood leaning on the wooden doorframe, absent-mindedly wiping his hands on the apron he was wearing, looking both charming and absurd in that attire. "She doesn't want to drink that soup," the elf seethed, blistering with fury. "Will you go on forcing her?"

The other stopped wiping his hands and took a step forward. If Legolas were calm enough, he would feel a certain admiration at the man's boldness. But in his current state it only served to intensify his irritation. "How funny," was Russell's mock amused statement, "I thought YOU were the one who keeps forcing her." Legolas clenched his jaw and a peculiar vein began to pulsate in his neck.

Irulan swallowed and made to sit up straighter. "Well, come now you guys…" she tried, glancing from one to the other and wondering why the hell it was so intense in the room.

"I would never force Irulan to anything," the elf seethed, completely disregarding Irulan's attempt to soften the atmosphere.

"No," Russel said dryly, "of course not. Instead you would insist and persist until she gives in."

That was it! Legolas moved so fast, neither man nor woman saw him taking a step. A blink later he was right before Russel, that dreadful threat emanating form him again. "I will only take so much disrespect," he growled. Russell, though disturbed to do so, felt forced to take a step back. "My affair with Irulan is none of your business. I suggest you stay out of it." A moment passed as he tilted his head and gave the man a more penetrating look. "Why would you be so interested in her relationships, I wonder?"

He straightened his shoulders a bit to that. "I told you – I happen to be her friend," was the dry reply.

"That's it?"

"That's more than enough."

"Heath!" Irulan said from behind him and he tried to regain his nerves at her terrified tone. This was not the time to act harshly and destroy the ground he was gaining here. Not at all! "Please, you guys! What is going on here?"

"Nothing," Legolas sighed finally, the jealousy in him pulsing and pushing madly. But this sort of jealousy had led him to the murder of a dear friend. He would be wise not to give in to its mad call again. "Nothing," he repeated, trying to tear himself away from the temptation to make Russell eat that damnable apron. He turned to give her a wry smile. "I'm sorry. Though I face it often enough, some things I simply cannot get used to." He glared at Russell again. "Such as rudeness."

To his amazement Russell just smirked deftly at that.

"Look...I'm sure Russell didn't mean to be disrespectful," Irulan said slowly, giving her friend a rather meaningful look.

The man just stared back, refusing to apologize in any manner. He didn't like Legolas. He didn't like the fact that Irulan was showing weakness to him, either. "All I'm saying is," he seethed and walked up to her sofa, giving Legolas a glare along the way, "we are out of fresh ginger root."

A short silence issued. Irulan gave him a look laced with heavy disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"Ginger root," he repeated nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh," she managed, glancing at Legolas who was looking at Russel as if he was observing a madman.

"And you know I don't like just ANY ginger root."

"Okay," Irulan mumbled, still not certain how to handle the situation. "So?..."

"So," Russel sighed and sat at the edge of the sofa, wiping the hair from her face, "we should go to Chinatown and get some." He didn't need to be supersensitive to feel Legolas boring holes into his back, but he showed no hesitation as he continued to caress her hair.

Irulan cleared her throat and gave him another meaningful look, but he remained oblivious to it. "Chinatown? Come on, Russel!"

"They have the best one," he grinned. "And well...it would do you some good to leave these walls."

"All right then," she groaned and he chuckled at that. He gave her a kiss on the forehead, then stood up, turning to give Legolas an amused glance. The other was in no state to return that glance. He swallowed and turned away, his emotions humming in him like some wild song. Never had he envied anyone as much as he envied Russell this moment. Russel! Who was a nobody! An ordinary human being! Too bold and too daring for his own good. And yet...he had a friendship with Irulan. He had her trust and her intimacy. He was allowed to move closer and to step back at his whim. Russell would go to Chinatown with Irulan to do silly shopping. Legolas was lucky to have ever stepped into her house. If Russell asked it of her, she would even go to China with him to buy the damn ginger root. But she would probably never even step into the same car with Legolas once more. In the end, she would say 'yes' to a ring from Russell, while all he would ever get from her was an endless string of 'no's.

He pursed his lips and remained embedded in his thoughts, not aware that the room had grown quiet. "Heath," she said finally, and he turned to look at her, praying silently that the desperation he was feeling at the moment would not show. "Would you like to come, too?"

If joy could be embodied as a moment, this would be it. Legolas exhaled and looked down at the floor, desperate to regain his wits. 'A second chance' he thought, baffled and stupefied. 'Who would have thought that I would be this lucky?' For months he had pursued Irulan with the modesty, determination and passion he couldn't have imagined himself capable of. No other woman had rejected him so repeatedly and so absolutely. No other woman had refused to be enthralled by his offers and his manipulations. And it had been a series of agonizing defeats day in and day out, for him. For Legolas was not used to losing battles. As someone who had tasted only victory for millennia, her bitter rejection over and over again was not only heart breaking, but also humiliating in every sense. All in all, Irulan had stripped him of his status, his pride and his glory quite effectively in a matter of weeks. It had taken him thousands upon thousands of years to build it, but it had taken her only a few months to tear it down and stomp on it.

And now, just when he had lost the final crumbles of his strength and his faith, his self-confidence and his hope, she had turned to him and offered a hand! Never would he understand women! Neither would he understand how they were capable of delivering such deadly blows along with such gentle caresses!

"Heath?" she said and he blinked to return to reality. "Did you hear me?"

"Of course I did," he whispered and chuckled a little before he inhaled and gave her a look that spoke of incredible love. "I would love to," he added slowly.

"Now wait a minute!" Russell protested, placing a hand on his hip. "I think you and I alone will be fine, Irulan!" Irulan just gave him a glare. Legolas didn't bother even to do that. He was too fixed on her, a perfect smile on his lips. "He doesn't need to-"

"Don't be ridiculous," she cut in with a dry voice.

"Believe me, darling," he seethed a long moment later, "I am not the ridiculous one here."

"What time shall I come?" Legolas said, ignoring the man and walking to loom over the couch to look down at her.

Russell groaned and threw up his hands, then folded them over his chest again and remained glaring down at Irulan, as well. She sniffed into the tissue, looking from one to the other, finding her current state rather uncomfortable and a pain in the neck - literally. Just when she was about to answer, Anne walked in, exhaling in frustration "I swear some day I will kill a cab driver! I will! They are ALL insane!" Her voice trailed when she lay eyes on the trio. "Oh..." she managed a moment later. "Hi, guys."

The reaction to her was very versatile. Legolas beamed with pleasure and smiled a genuine smile while Irulan inhaled slowly and stared back in suppressed anger. Russel, on the other hand, seemed stunned and caught off-guard. He shifted on his feet, then scratched his head as he usually did when feeling uncomfortable.

"Hello Anne," Legolas said finally.

"What a nice surprise to see you here, Heath," she chuckled nervously and pretended not to see the fiery look Irulan was giving her.

"Likewise," was his gentle reply.

Russel rolled his eyes to his smooth way and scratched his neck in annoyance. A short silence set in. "Just the missing piece of the group," said Irulan with mock pleasure then. "Come in, join us…my FRIEND."

Anne pursed her lips and gave Legolas a fleeting glance, but received nothing in return. "So..." she trailed, stepping closer, "...what were you guys doing?"

"Planning a trip to Chinatown," the elf said with obvious pleasure.

"Really?" was her surprised reply. "Wow. What's the occasion?"

"I ran out of ginger root," Russel mumbled and bit his cheeks.

"Well," she said, nodding thoughtfully, "sounds very urgent. So when are we going?"

"Tomorrow," he sighed and scratched his neck again. It took him a while to get used to the excitement that Anne's presence brought and during that while, he would avoid eye contact as if his life depended on it. Irulan had seen him even blush on rare occasions and he threatened to kill her slowly and painfully if she ever but dared to give a hint of that to Anne.

"Great!" She turned to grin at Heath. "You are coming, too?"

"Yes," he smiled in return. Irulan glanced from one to the other, but decided to keep her mouth shut instead of shouting her fury right there and then.

"Good," Anne exhaled, obviously relieved.

"Indeed," seethed Irulan. "I'll see you tomorrow, Heath," she added finally, not turning to give him a glance. Legolas smiled wider, then picked up her hand to give it another warm kiss. Irulan, baffled by that, broke her eye contact with the other woman for a moment and looked up to meet his penetrating gaze. "Thank you, Irulan," was all he said. He gently squeezed her fingers, and once again only gave a nod to Russel, and a smile in passing to Anne before he glided out of the chamber and left.

"So...." Irulan croaked, crossing her arms on her chest with dangerous grace. "Is there anything you wish to tell me, Anne?"

"Well…uh….oh yes! The cab driver!" the other hollered, rolling her eyes in mock frustration. "One of these days…"


	6. It Wasn't Meant To Be

_You have asked for a long chapter. Here it is. It will probably not be what most of you expected, but there is a reason and a plot and we are helpless to follow any other route. Since it's so much longer, I think I should be allowed to take a longer break, too. _

_I hope you like it._

_Voila!_

* * *

The next day Legolas came before noon, to Russel's utter disappointment, of course. He looked stunning to say the least - with a simple but tasteful attire (black cotton pants and a black short sleeve T-shirt that emphasized his beautiful figure and his flawless skin even further) and uplifting spirits. An aura of joy was emanating from him and made him look even younger than before. His pale silver hair hung to the middle of his back, shining with healthy shimmer. No matter how he tried to blend in, Legolas would always look different and unique in every setting. But it was beyond a doubt that he would look even more so in Chinatown.

He brushed by Russel and remained standing in the living room, waiting for Irulan to get ready. She strolled in merely minutes later, wearing a long, casual black cotton dress, her hair in a loose bun. To him, she looked perfect, though to anyone else she probably would look more like a mess.

"I hope I am not disturbing," he said as she walked up to him. "I can return if it is too early."

Irulan smiled a weak smile. "Of course not, Legolas," she whispered.

A moment passed between them. "You look amazing," he said then. "You should wear a dress more often."

Irulan laughed at that and walked to the table to pick up another tissue. "I don't know if this is such a bright idea. I mean...I'm still a little sick."

"I am certain that it'll pass soon enough," he said with a tone of mystery right behind her and she turned to look at him, startled. He took another step, an enigmatic smile on his lips. "You are too strong to surrender to such a thing."

"Well...one can only hope," she said finally, not certain what else to say and inched back a little. "I'll be fine."

"Irulan!" Russel yelled from the other room just then and the elf clenched his jaws with frustration. It was simply impossible to have a decent conversation with Irulan without this man interrupting! "Did you see my denim jacket?"

"No," she shouted back.

"Why is he staying here?" the elf hissed hotly.

"Because he is kind," she said after a moment of bafflement. "He is concerned that I might need something at night, so he stays."

"Irulan," he said slowly, giving the direction of the other room a swift glance before he continued, "what if he has...other...intentions?"

She gave him an agape look. "Such as?" He pursed his lips and chose not to answer. Her eyes widened slightly after a long staring. "No, Legolas!" she whispered with urgency. "Russel is a friend. How can you make such a suggestion?"

"All I am saying is," he sighed and grasped her hand, giving it an inspective look, "it seems impossible to me that a man could be so close to you and NOT fall in love with you."

She huffed with mock frustration. "It is very possible, believe me."

He said nothing to that and merely fixed his blue eyes on her. And his eyes spoke louder than any word could. She swallowed, feeling a little embarrassed at that gaze and diverted her eyes. His fingers glided in between hers, gaining a gentle hold, delivering a caress as he remained still and unmoving. "I have missed the touch of you," he whispered a long, long time later.

"You make it so hard, Legolas," she stammered. She tried weakly to take her hand back but he would not allow it. "Why can't we be like other...people?" she finished. She had almost said 'couples' and the idea seemed both dangerous and exciting to her.

"Because we are not like other people," he murmured, inching closer to loom over her. The fingers of his other hand reached up to slowly brush away the strands of hair from her face. "We are different from them."

Irulan took a deep breath and, still unable to meet his gaze, stepped back a little. It was so damn hard to breathe when he was so close to her. And how he had managed to be so close with her in a matter of days was simply unbelievable! "Why can't we be friends?"

He stilled for a moment. "Friends?" he said with disbelief and once again closed the distance between them. "Why be friends when we can be so much more?"

"Why not...be friends...first?" she stammered and tried to back away again.

He sighed and gave her a long look. "Very well," was the late reply. Irulan, amazed that she had actually managed to convince him, looked up, startled. "I understand that...before, the pace was too fast and the road too rocky. Perhaps it would be more lasting to walk with greater care this time." She smiled and nodded, relieved. Legolas smiled, too, and closed the distance between them once more. "What shall be my prize, then?" was the devious addition.

She blinked for a moment, then laughed, shaking her head. The day in Paris came back to her almost immediately. The day they had sat at the café and he had tricked her into an agreement of the intimacy of a kiss. She grinned to herself, recalling not only the conversation, but also the smell of fresh coffee, the feeling of independence Legolas had managed to evoke in her during that trip, the lightness of heart she had felt as she sat in the uncomfortable vintage wooden chairs. "Let me guess..." she sighed finally, locking eyes with him again, a sly smile on her lips, "…a kiss?

She laughed harder, amazed at his persistence. At the fact that against all her rejections, he had managed to regain his determination in a matter of days and that he had regained his confidence almost completely. "That is an offer I cannot refuse," he whispered, his eyes twinkling with both amusement and passion.

Irulan froze with that, suddenly feeling too excited to move. It should make her furious. Or maybe uncomfortable. At least it should make her afraid. Because here she was, after months of stubbornly refusing Legolas so much as a nice conversation, and suddenly unexplainably tempted to be kissed by him! She opened her mouth, then closed it, not finding the words to utter. He inched closer, until his scent washed over her. That was not good. Not good at all. For it brought with it long forgotten memories. Such as the mornings when she had woken up in his embrace, his lips on her shoulder. Or nights when she had been kissed until her lips had hurt and she had only craved for more.

The truth was, she was missing Legolas. And hating herself for it. For a long time Irulan had believed that this was only proof of her weakness and she had stubbornly punished herself for it. But as more and more time passed, she came to realize that it had nothing to do with weakness. If a lamb was slower than a wolf, was that weakness? Or was it just...nature? She was no match for Fate. She had no say over a design that was far beyond her voice and her choice. No matter how hard she tried, she could only manage to resist with a weak "no". She could not prevent her feelings. Neither could she avoid him. She was backed into a corner and it was actually only a matter of time before she fell.

Maybe it was that realization of defeat that silenced Irulan at that moment. Or maybe it was the temptation of feeling his lips on her skin again. Maybe it was shock. Or indecision. In any case, she remained still as a statue as he leaned in. She took a deep breath, smelling his unique scent, feeling his warm breath on her cheek. When his lips touched her cheekbone, she knew for certain that their story was far from over. She just knew it. And right she was

The very same thought soared through Legolas almost simultaneously. It had been so long! And yet...now that he had kissed her...it almost felt like yesterday. He lingered for many moments, all thoughts of pulling away suppressed by the irresistible urge to continue. He placed another kiss on her cheek. She had a flowery perfume on, along with a product in her hair. Nevertheless, he could smell the scent of her skin. His hand lightly grasped her shoulder as he placed another one, delightfully baffled by the fact that he was granted such a chance.

This time when Russel cleared his throat, thereby providing yet another interruption, Legolas seriously considered having him killed. Why, only a phone call and Russel would not see another dawn. He could do it himself, no doubt, but it would be so much easier to have someone else perform the deed while he was having dinner with Irulan. Legolas was far from innocent and he was not a child. He was a warrior and he had killed more than his share in this world. Sometimes in open, sometimes in secrecy. Sometimes for defense, sometimes for offense. Taking a life was not a lightly thing for a person of his ethics, status and species. But his responsibilities to others and the world in general, along with the fact that he possessed the power to do so, often required such a thing to be done. And when it was inevitable or just, Legolas showed no hesitation in the act of slaying. Sure enough Russel's murder had no worthy excuse. But at this moment this mattered absolutely nothing to Legolas who stiffened with fury and barely kept himself from turning around and slamming the man's nose into his skull.

"I found my jacket," Russel said a moment later as Irulan hastily freed herself from her position, brushing by the frustrated elf. She absent-mindedly scratched her neck and walked away, mumbling about her missing bag. Legolas had to take several deep breaths to force his urges down and only then turned to meet Russel's eyes.

Neither spoke for a while, staring at each other with looks that could have killed. "I don't like you," Russel said finally, low enough to be audible only to Legolas, who remained completely placid and blank. "It took her months to get over you. And just when she was feeling better, you return." His eyes grew so frosty, that their light brown shone with a hazel glimmer for a moment. "I will not allow you to break Irulan's heart again."

Legolas bit his cheeks and nodded slightly, his eyes wandering around. He began a leisure walk towards the other man, locking his hands behind him. "I have no reason to explain myself to you," he said, his tone casual and laid back. Russel didn't trust those signs, though, and remained alert as the elf continued his approach. "Nevertheless, out of sheer generosity, I will give you some advice." He halted merely a step away from Russel, and only then turned to lock eyes. Contrary to his tone, his eyes were blazing with murder. "I love Irulan. Both the nature and the intensity of that love are beyond your understanding. You will never match it, Russel. Never feel anything even close to it." His eyes wandered over the features of the dark man in front of him, taking in the masculine attractiveness. "Our parting was no ending - it was merely an interlude." He took another small step and stood nose to nose with the other man. "I will take Irulan," he growled, his whole being pulsing with the strength of his emotions. "She was promised to me. Not to you, Russel. Not to any other. To me." Russel swallowed, but kept wisely silent. "I may have made mistakes in the past, I don't deny that. But I am ready to make up for them. In ANY manner Irulan sees fitting." He waited a moment for Russel to digest that information. "I WILL have Irulan," he added, with a lower tone. "NEVER doubt that."

* * *

They stopped the cab along the way to pick up Anne, who -to Russel's delight- had to squeeze in between him and the door. Legolas, who was not used to such an inconvenient manner of transportation, sat next to him, his arm draped around Irulan's waist who was watching the street go by on the other end of the seat. It was a hot summer day and Chinatown was the worst place to go to at a time like this, for it promised a good crowd and no air conditioners. And yet, she felt a strange delight at the idea. Legolas was with her. As were her best two friends, who had delved into a merry chatter of their own.

"What are you thinking about?" he said slowly into her ear as the car rocked to a stop at the lights.

Irulan -who stiffly avoided looking in his direction in an attempt to keep their faces from being too close- just shrugged and watched the outer view. "It is a nice day," was her late and a bit nervous reply.

Legolas sighed and brushed back her hair from her temple. 'He never slows down,' she thought then, both amused and amazed. Even now, his advances were as bold and daring as they had been when they had first met and when he had persuaded her into intimacy during a trip. Merely days ago she wasn't even talking to him. Now he was sitting pressed against her, his arm embracing her waist, his fingers gliding across her cheek. "It is my happiest day in a very long time," he said, so low that no other could have heard it. Not that Russel or Anne would hear it anyway - too engaged they were in their own, strange ways of speech. He shifted a little, embracing her further and Irulan held back a sigh, surprised by how fast and eager her heart responded to his touch.

"This is not a very friendly position," she said, unable to keep the amusement from her voice.

Legolas smiled slyly, continuing a feather-light play with her loose bun. "This is as friendly as it gets," he said, dangerously low. His fingers danced down her neck, across her shoulders and Irulan pursed her lips, still not turning from the window and wishing madly for Chinatown to show up at the corner. "I know that I have broken your trust," he said and the amusement in his tone was replaced by a peculiar gravity. "It is no lightly loss for me. But...I will not make the same mistakes again. I promise."

She shook her head, her face still facing away. How to tell Legolas that he had made no mistakes? Still he didn't understand the fact that it was not his past actions that had made Irulan walk away from him. It had been -and still was, actually- his nature. His fiery dominance. His unbending passion. His need for her that was so consuming and tiring and downright frightening. Legolas meant no ordinary life. Oh no - far from it! He meant a sizzling encounter every single minute of every single day. He meant facing a beauty and a wisdom that was beyond her understanding. And with it, a demand of her very soul. He would give her anything -anything- she asked for, even if she asked it purely out of whim. But in return he would take everything that Irulan was and would ever be.

Before she could come up with a reply, her hand was lifted up for scorching kisses. She should object. And scold him a little too, while she was at it. But the thought of those actions vanished when he spoke again. "I am so utterly alone, Irulan," Legolas whispered, almost as if speaking to himself. Without further thought she turned as he lifted his head and they sat, face to face. The cab rocked on and neither Russel nor Anne stopped in their hasty and joyful chattering.

"Of course not," she managed to stammer after a too long interval of staring. "You...you have...Haldir! And...friends." She trailed off, then swallowed, not sure how to continue.

Legolas merely smiled and lowered her hand, his eyes still fixed on her. He was silent for a long moment, but finally spoke up. "Do you feel the Bond?" She gave him a perplexed look in return. "OUR Bond?" he said, gentler.

"Oh! I...yes, of course."

He nodded in confirmation. "It has no equal in the world. Nothing will ever exceed it."

Her eyes widened with surprise. "But..." she glanced at Russel who, too happy with having Anne next to him, had forgotten all about Irulan by the looks of it. "But," she added with an urgent whisper, "other elves Share, too!"

"Of course," he said, nodding and gazing out the window. "I have Shared before, as well." When her eyebrows rose in surprise, he grinned in amusement. "How else do you presume Tolkien wrote what only the Fellowship witnessed?" This time it was clear excitement that settled into her eyes and Irulan unconsciously strengthened her grip on his hand. "All elves have Shared this or that to certain degrees," he continued a moment later. "But...rarely anything so personal." His blue eyes met hers again and his tone gained a cautious edge. "Or with their true match."

Irulan swallowed but no matter how hard she tried, failed to tear her eyes away from him. For a long moment there was nothing else but the hum of the distant conversation of Russel and Anne, the background noise of the city, the rocking of the car. "Have you ever thought," she began, lowering her voice even further, "have you ever thought that maybe...maybe we...I mean you and I...are not...?"

"You ARE my true match," he intervened, both gently and yet firm, locking their hands in a strong grip once more. "As I am yours." She pursed her lips and was about to turn to the window once more when he took a hold of her chin and forced her to look in his direction once more. "Why do you doubt this?"

"Why then does it not come natural to us to be together?" she exhaled finally, with an edge of frustration.

Legolas smiled – slowly but with evident amusement. "It IS natural," he said finally. "All we have to do is...to let go. But," he sighed, leaning slightly back and giving her a look, "but we don't."

"No," she smiled, almost sadly, "we don't."

* * *

Chinatown was a blur of colors, scents and voices. Always had been. Though Irulan was not very fond of crowds –an oddity for someone living in the middle of a rather crowded city- she liked to come here every now and then. It had streets and shops where one could forget New York completely. And if one had enough imagination –which she did, of course- one could even imagine oneself somewhere else. Somewhere in China. One could think that by stepping out the simple door of the supermarket, the streets of Beijing would greet the visitor – not New York. It was like a little escapade.

True enough, she had visited Chinatown several times before. But it was completely different this time. Because this time Legolas was with her.

"And what about this one?!" she said, waving the package in front of his face.

He took it from her and gave the back a quick glance. "I don't think it'll be any use to you," he smiled, his eyes gliding over the Chinese symbols. "It is a herbal blend to speed your metabolism."

"I might need that," she mumbled, "after all the chocolate I ate!"

Legolas smiled a fabulous smile and placed the box back on the shelf. He had sent a box to her house after his first visit, and by the looks of it, it had not survived until his second visit the next day. "Did you eat it all?"

"I did," was her partly guilty and frustrated reply.

"No matter," he said a moment later. "I told you – you look better every time I see you."

She sighed and walked on, determined not to address his compliments.

"I would love to take you to China one day," he said after several moments. Irulan, who was inspecting a jar with a thick, dark liquid in it, blinked and looked up. "It is a very interesting country," was his addition.

"Ummm…I guess it must be," she said, startled. The idea of going to a different country with Legolas naturally reminded her the times he had taken her to France and Vienna. It was beyond pleasurable. But…that was back then. Now they were living a different phase. She cleared her throat, ready to change the subject. "What is this, Legolas?"

He read the label, then placed it back on the shelf. "Nothing useful for you," he said, walking down the isle.

She gave the jar another glance. "Yes but what is it?"

Legolas did not answer. It was hard enough to accept the fact of Russel without aphrodisiacs. "I am looking at apartments for sale these days. Would you come along and give me your opinion?"

"Where is it?"

"Not too far from where you live."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Irulan groaned.

He turned around and smiled at the sheepish look on her face. "I have been there many times. In China, I mean," he said, almost nonchalantly. "It is very old. And very…authentic, as humans say."

Irulan fixed her eyes on the shelf that held different varieties of green tea, and thought about his words. Legolas could see the yearning that emanated from her. The yearning to see foreign places. To hear about old tales. And the Heavens knew that HE felt such yearning, too. True, he was a constant traveler and his duties required him to fly across the globe more often than convenient, but after having lived through an episode with Irulan, his solitary trips had no flavor to them.

Just days ago he had stood by the river Rhein and stared into its muddy waters for a very long time, lost in the sensation of solitude and yearning. 'What terrible fate,' had echoed in his head, 'I can have anything I want. But I can't have the one to share it with. Therefore, I can have nothing.' The best German coffee tasted like mud compared to what he had had with her in that café he had found her sitting at. The sweetest weather was dry compared to the wind that tore through New York. The gorgeous green of beautiful European pastures remained dull and woke nothing in him that the simple sight of the street in which her building stood, did.

'You knew this,' he thought then. 'When you decided to stay, you knew what that meant. You knew that it meant solitude like nothing you have ever tasted before. That it meant centuries over centuries of duty without a single breath of relaxation.' And it had been so easy! Not pleasant, yes, but easy. Before he met her, that heavy burden had been bearable. Now it was too heavy for his weak limbs.

He gave Irulan another glance. It was not too late, yet. As a matter of fact, the worst was behind them. The terrible chapter was done and gone. Now was the chance for new beginnings. And he would never repeat his old mistakes.

Or so he thought.

She was startled out of her reverie when his hand found hers and another long kiss was placed into her palm. Irulan looked up, confused and yet excited and Legolas met her gaze with burning eyes. "I have missed you," he whispered slowly, "so much!"

"I have missed you, too, Legolas," she managed to stammer after a long moment. "It is impossible not to," she added with a chuckle.

He smiled a fabulous smile and parted his lips. For a reply? An answer? A compliment? An offer? She would never know. For once again, their conversation was interrupted.

"Heath! There you are!"

And once again, it was Amanda's voice.

Both Legolas and Irulan were so surprised that they found nothing to say for several moments. The blonde beauty arrived beside them, offering a warm smile to Irulan and –to her utter displeasure- a kiss on the cheek to Legolas. That only served for several more minutes of silent confusion.

"Amanda!" Legolas managed to say finally, not very good in hiding the bafflement he was feeling.

Amanda smiled an innocent smile. "I couldn't reach you. And well...Eric told me you would be here...and he came with me, to help!" Irulan glanced at Legolas. He had his blank face on, which meant that he was hiding his expression. "Of course it's useful to have someone speaking Chinese with you in this place..." her gaze wandered around the little shop before they settled on Legolas once more. "And of course to be looking for someone so...unusual in sight," she finished with a grin. Just then –true to her word- Haldir turned the corner, and then stood, fixed with shock. "Oh...here he is! I found him, Eric!"

It took Haldir a few seconds to break from his bafflement and stride over to the rest of the company. He gave Legolas a long and inexpressive look and Legolas replied in the same fashion. The other elf's eyes turned to Irulan then. "I did not expect to see you here, Irulan," he said slowly.

"Same here, Eric," was her reply as she retrieved her hand from Legolas' grip.

Another moment of tense silence ensued with that action. Amanda's joyful chatter broke it. "I HAD to find you!" she sighed, her eyes following Irulan's movement. "For this..." The other three waited in silence while she fished out a little package from her bag. She smiled shyly before she offered it to him. "Happy birthday, Heath."

"Happy birthday?" Irulan said before she could stop herself.

"Of course," chirped Amanda, for the first time addressing her. "It is Heath's birthday." She hesitated just for a moment. "I thought you would know that."

Irulan stiffened and shot both Legolas and Haldir –who looked rather anxious at this point- a glare before she took a deep breath. "No. I didn't know that."

"I...seem to have forgotten, myself," Legolas tried with a smile that could be interpreted as nervousness on a human.

"Well...I haven't," Amanda beamed.

Legolas pursed his lips and looked up at Irulan. She had crossed her arms over her chest and the expression on her face was not good. Not good at all. "Go on. Open it, Heath," she said, biting her cheeks. Haldir gave a deep sigh to that and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm…I'm sorry," Amanda stammered suddenly and her expression was almost sincere innocence. Almost. "Was this a bad time? Did I...interrupt?"

"No," said Irulan between clenched teeth, not glancing at her and keeping her eyes on Legolas. She was feeling so damn angry again and it made her even angrier not to know why that was. "You interrupted nothing."

"Eric! Finally we meet again!"

'Great!' thought Irulan then and almost moaned in frustration. 'Just the party that was missing!'

Anne and Russel came and joined the quartet. Another episode of confusion and tenseness began. Introductions were made and it only served to increase the tenseness further. Anne narrowed her eyes and glared at Amanda continuously after that and only broke her glaring to give occasional death-glares to both Legolas and Eric. If elves could sweat, those two probably would be, at this moment. "So," she began, once again locking her eyes on Haldir, "you were looking for us?"

"Yes," Haldir said and swallowed. "I knew that Heath would be in Chinatown today. I...was not aware that he would have company. And well...Amanda wanted to..."

"I wanted to give him his birthday present!" she said, smiling a dazzling smile.

"It's your birthday?" was Russel's dry question.

Legolas was saved from lying when Amanda continued. "Even HE forgot!" she said, laughing a merry laughter. To everyone's surprise she turned to Irulan. "How are you now? Heath told me you were ill?"

Irulan blinked in surprise and Russel and Anne exchanged silent looks. "So Heath told you?" she managed at last.

"Oh yes!" Amanda exclaimed, her slanted eyes sparkling. "You were all he talked about this whole last week!"

That should have been a good thing, no? But it wasn't. Not at all. Irulan took a deep breath and ignored Legolas, who made a move to speak up. "_Whole_ last week?" she said with open disappointment. After clearing her throat she managed to switch to a better stance. "Sorry to disappoint, Amanda. I am quite well now."

Amanda gave Legolas a small smile. "I think he was too worried for you. Why...just two days ago we were at dinner...and he barely ate, worrying about you!"

"Really?" Irulan hissed and gave a rather blanched Legolas a killer look.

The killer look was delivered by Legolas to Haldir, who paled two shades on the spot and shifted on his feet. He looked nothing like the amazing warrior that he was supposed to be.

"That must have been the day you were having a fever, Irulan," Russel inserted smoothly, raising his eyebrows and giving Legolas a long look that had quite a bit of amusement in it.

"I guess so, Russel," was her reply. She sounded tired and angry at the same time.

"Irulan..." Legolas began, his eyes glued to her, but she just waved his argument away.

"Open your present, Heath."

He pursed his lips and waited another moment before he opened the thin box. Everyone waited in tense silence. Amanda gave Irulan a small smile and Irulan smiled a fake one in return. Anne glared some more at the blonde woman, while Russel barely held down a grin and embraced Irulan's shoulders in amusement.

Finally the elf fished out two pieces of paper. He looked down at them for a long moment, then up at Amanda, who smiled a small smile. "You know I always wanted to go there," she said, taking a nervous breath. "Would to Egypt with me, Heath?"

That did it for Irulan. Every fiber in her brain ignited in that instant. And she knew for certain that what she was feeling was pure jealousy. The discovery only flared the flames higher. Many things happened at the same time. She realized that she was in love with Legolas. In love like a fool! Always had been. And always would be. It had been right. It had been good. And she had wiped it off. Like wiping off the painting of Mona Lisa, she had scrubbed it off. And now here she was, witnessing a new dawn. But it would not be her dawn. 'Egypt,' she thought, stupefied and sad, 'will I never escape my stupid, damnable fate?'

When she met the blue eyes of the elf, a terrible dread came over Irulan. And along with it came anger. And grief. And sorrow. As well as regret. And let's not forget fury. 'I told him to go away!' she thought, bristling with her inner tumult now, 'I told him to leave me alone. Why couldn't he just damn leave?! WHY?'

'You know why,' taunted a little inner demon, giggling with delight. 'So he can have both you AND her.' Irulan's eyes slightly widened at that thought. A part of her protested immediately – Legolas was not a man like that! 'How certain you are!' the voice replied, seemingly calm. 'Again, you put your trust in him. And again, he betrays it. Haven't you learned anything about elves, Irulan? Haven't you learned that they have always and will always manipulate your kind? Why, you told him to go to her. You didn't tell him to leave YOU while doing so! Guess what, my dear, naive sister – he has heeded your advice.'

The next moment she was walking away from the scene. She barely made it out of the shop without crying out of sheer fury. When had this all started to crumble? When she had left England to run for Baeron's consolation. When she had felt like her freedom was being ripped away from her. And for the sake of that freedom, a man had died and an affair had been broken beyond repair. "Why is it so damn hard?!" she thought as she rushed by the stands and the people who jumped out of her way. She loved Legolas and she hated him. Just like she hated herself. 'I will go back to my former life. The life before Legolas. Before the battle. The era of peace and dissatisfaction,' she thought as she pushed through the throng.

She barely made it beyond the little packed street where the shop was when a grip on her arm prevented her from further walking and she was pushed against the wall of a nearby building. Merely moments later Legolas' blue gaze covered the sky. "Irulan, what is the matter with you?" he said, a bit impatient. "Stop running."

"Get off me, Legolas," she seethed and tried to push him away. His grip only strengthened at that and her fury grew at her own weakness. "Let me go," she growled, locking eyes with him again.

He gave her a long look. "No."

Her breath stopped for a moment. Then she began to struggle harder. "Let me go!" she exclaimed, her voice dangerously close to a shout.

"No," Legolas said with a deeper tone and pinned her hands to her side, leaning further in.

Irulan felt like he had sucked all of the oxygen out of the world and she could not breathe. She turned her face away, once again fighting to release herself. But her struggle meant nothing to Legolas, who waited with patience until her strength failed her. Frustrated, angry and now closer to tears than ever, Irulan fixed her eyes on the sidewalk and pursed her lips in stubborn resistance. "Now," he said many minutes later, "let me explain..."

"Explain nothing!" Irulan snapped, although she had been determined to stay silent. "You don't have to say it and I don't want to hear it."

"Irulan," he began, somewhat tired, "I don't understand you. What have I done now to deserve your fury?"

"Just let me go, Legolas," she mumbled, still focused on the sidewalk.

He did not move. "If this is about Amanda..."

Just hearing her name made Irulan furious again. "Yes! This is about Amanda!" she barked and stared him in the eye. Legolas had a baffled look on his face. "This is about you and Amanda! This is about how she knows your damn birthday and I don't!"

Even Irulan was aware how stupid that sounded. And even if she wasn't, the baffled look on the elf's face would have told her so. "Because it's not my birthday," he said slowly. "It is the birthday of this name and identity I wear, that's all."

Irulan huffed with irritation and tried her wrists again. No such luck. Legolas had an amazing talent to keep her pinned without hurting her. "You know what I mean," she groaned, looking away again.

"No, I don't."

Irulan was losing her patience. "Stop it, Legolas! Go back to her!" Her eyes were blazing with incredible fury. A shocked expression crossed his face, but Irulan was beyond hesitation. "Don't bother consoling me during the day, either. You can be with her night AND day from now on!"

"Enough!" he said finally. His tone, more than anything else, forced her to silence. "I had dinner with her, yes..."

"The WHOLE week?!"

"Well...yes," was his reluctant reply. Her eyes lit up with a dangerous fire at that. "But..."

"Spare me, Legolas! I feel enough of a fool already."

"I only had dinner with her!" he protested finally, frustrated and afraid at the same time. True enough, he should have refused. But he hadn't been able to bring himself to refuse Amanda, who looked devastated at his disinterest in her. Also, he had needed the company. It was easier than sitting back and watching the ceiling, his imagination going wild on what Russel and Irulan might be doing at that particular moment.

"Thank you, Legolas. I suppose I should be grateful," was the dry reply.

"_You_ should complain!" he seethed, now a tad angry himself.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He gave her a long look. "You are so protective when it comes to Russel, and yet for me to have dinner with Amanda flares you like a forest fire."

Irulan gave him an earnest, furious shove in the chest, but Legolas didn't even swagger. "It is not the same, you fool! Russel is my best friend!"

"So you say," was his flat response.

"What would you think of me if I were to spend my days with you and then –without telling you, mind you!- have dinner with some other guy every friggin night?"

Legolas stilled. Number one – the idea was not as innocent as he wished the example of Amanda and himself to be. Not at all. He would certainly not think, but act. Number two – this was not a revelation Irulan needed to hear. Because it would only prove that as much as he wished he was, Legolas apparently hadn't changed not too much, after all. The discovery disturbed him immensely and for a moment, his confidence in himself shook and swayed. "Granted, it seems a bit...improper," he managed to whisper a long moment later. Irulan clenched her jaws, still giving him that hateful look. It was more than obvious that she did not agree with the adjective he had chosen. But then...why should she? Legolas and Irulan had only spent a couple of days in each other's presence and the only good thing those days held was the glamorous act of courting. To be honest, the rest of that time had been spent under the shadow of jealousy, fear, oppression, threat and finally, death. They hadn't really found the chance to know each other. How on earth would Irulan know that Legolas was honest and trustworthy? She knew nothing about him – nothing other than that he was dangerous and manipulative. "But I don't understand what that has to do with us," he said with haste, suddenly feeling very uneasy.

Irulan gave him a long, deep look. "There is no 'us'," was her final comment.

Legolas took a deep breath and tilted back a bit. 'Back to the beginning,' he thought, irritated. "Why are you so angry?" he said finally, trying to lock eyes with her again. He failed in his attempts.

"Just let me go," she said, her voice faltering and shaking now. 'Don't you cry! Don't you dare cry!!' she thought, feeling desperate again.

"No," he said once more, leaning further down on her. Once again his scent rose up to her, but this time it reminded her only of what she would never have again. Or should never have again. "Are you jealous, Irulan?" he murmured a long minute later.

It took all her willpower not to start struggling at that comment, again. There was obvious hope in his tone, as well as a bit of amusement. The only thing that kept her calm was the fact that she felt more than embarrassed and afraid to admit it. "Jealous?!" she snorted and prayed to God that it sounded believable. "Please, Legolas! Why would I be jealous?"

"That," he sighed, but not entirely without amusement, "is beyond me. She is not your match." He tilted his head to lock eyes with her once more but Irulan turned her head the other way. "Surely you must know that?"

"Trust me," was her dry reply, "I have enough brains to see beyond physical beauty."

A long moment passed in silence. "So have I," was his late comment. Without thought she turned her head and looked up at him. Legolas looked back, the amusement and childish pleasure replaced by grave sincerity.

The air sizzled around them and for the strangest reason Irulan thought that Legolas would lean in and kiss her. It should be impossible. But at the moment it seemed more than probable. He didn't move but with every passing moment her belief in that scenario grew further. Until she had to break the silence once more before something disastrous of that nature happened. "That must be your curse, Legolas."

He took a deep breath, not looking away. His expression said nothing as his eyes swept over her face, making her feel naked and exposed. "Nay," he whispered finally. "It is a blessing." Irulan let out a frustrated exhale and once again tried to break away from him. It caused him to lean completely against her and she stilled in panic, not wishing to move and become more entangled than they already were. "Don't you see what you are?" he whispered into her ear. His lips brushed against her skin and she barely managed a shudder, trying to keep as still as possible. "To me, no woman can match you in beauty or strength. You have no rival in this world."

All she managed was a snort that could pass as a sign of disbelief. "Is that why you were meeting her behind my back for an entire week?" she seethed.

He tilted back a little, standing nose to nose with her. Irulan kept his gaze with stubborn strength. "I am not used to this," he said slowly, irritation making his tone sharp again. "This fear. Fear of offending you. Of losing you. Of betraying you. Of disappointing you." Another moment passed and she remained still, not daring to breath at this proximity. "I don't like to be afraid. And seldom have I tasted it. Now....ALL I feel is fear!" She almost gasped when his right hand clasped her chin, cupping her face. It was not harsh, but it was not gentle, either. "Explain to me WHAT we are, Irulan. What do you feel for me? What place do I have in your heart?"

"I wish I damn knew!" she exclaimed, rather loud.

"And yet," he growled, his fingers slowly snaking down to loosely fold her neck, "you feel something. Enough to make you act like this because I had dinner with another woman." She tried to turn her head away but he snatched it back and locked eyes with her once more. "Why can't you say it? Why WON'T you say it?" Irulan almost whimpered at the intensity of his stance and his eyes, but managed to swallow it down. "If you but beckon once, I shall move mountains to come to you, you know that!" he whispered with urgency and anger.

"That is what I fear," she hissed back. The wish to cry bloomed in her again and she bit her lip, desperately trying to push it away. "You are not alone, Legolas. I am afraid, too. Afraid of you."

He tilted back further, clearing up a good distance for Irulan to breathe. She took a deep, ragged breath and closed her eyes. "I cannot change what I am," he said, a long time later. She opened her eyes at the obvious sadness and anger in his tone. Legolas stood an arm's length away, his hand beside her head on the wall. His silver hair hung free over his shoulders and reflected the bright day. "I am heavy, I know that. But I also know you have the strength to carry me. If anyone, YOU can carry me, Irulan."

"Back away from her," Russel intervened just at that moment. Legolas tensed slightly, but other than that, only turned his head to glare over his shoulder. The man had a dangerous expression on his face, his feet slightly apart, his stance rather threatening.

"Leave us, Russel," was all the elf said, completely unaffected.

"I said...back away!" was the growl of a reply.

He exhaled in frustration and turned his back to Irulan with fluid grace. "You have reached the limits of my patience," he said, fixing Russel with his gaze. "I will not tolerate any more interventions from you."

"Heath!" Irulan said from behind him with an urgent whisper.

"And I will not tolerate you messing up her life again!" Russel said, taking a step closer. At this moment, he was doing what very few men would have found the courage to do – he was not whimpering and running away from Legolas. And the interesting part was that he was completely unaware of his heroism.

"Russel!" she said this time, terrified of his stupid bravery.

"Let's see what you will do about it, then!" the elf growled in reply, clenching his jaws.

"Irulan," Russel turned to her, Let's go."

"Irulan and I," the blonde man seethed, his eyes pieces of ice, "are having a conversation. Now leave and let us finish."

"Go and have your conversation with Amanda!"

The speed of Legolas was too fast for any human eye and hard to capture for most elven eyes. His calmness was misleading, his cool composure not trustable. In a flash he caught Russel by the front of his shirt and pinned him against the wall with a loud thud, pressing the air out of his chest with his arm pushing the man against the bricks. Russel barely managed to wheeze with surprise as a response and grasped Legolas' arm to pry it off himself. His eyes widened with surprise at the impossibly steely hardness of muscle he encountered. The fear that he was supposed to feel since the moment he had met Legolas settled into his eyes and the elf saw it, feeling a certain satisfaction at the fact. He heard Irulan gasp with shock nearby, but did not divert his looks from the brown orbs in front of him. "I am growing tired of your foolishness," he hissed between his teeth, "and your bravado. If you think that you can meddle in my business, Russel, you are up for a surprise."

It was Baeron's death all over again. And it affected her far worse than how she thought it would. The fear of another fight and a possible death hit her like a slap in the face and she endured it, unable to duck and escape. In her mind, the dim, strange passage of Bentanta's tomb flared up, the cool white sand touched her feet, then she fell into the darkness and then Baeron died over and over again. She barely heard herself screaming, but miraculously the words came out, anyway. "Stop it! Legolas!"

Legolas clenched his jaws, but did not slacken his grip. Certainly he should let go. To show violence in front of Irulan was the worst idea. She had, after all, left him for this very reason. And yet...how tempting it was to squash Russel right there and then! "Go ahead," Russel growled then, "show your true face."

"Believe me," the elf hissed in return, "you would not want to see my true face."

"Legolas! Stop it!" she screeched again and grasped the arm that was pinning her friend against the wall. "Let him go!" The elf turned to lock eyes with her sintering brown orbs. "NOW, Legolas!"

He took a deep breath and gracefully stepped back, releasing his grip. Russel took a deep, ragged breath and tried to suppress the cough that was trying to break free from his lungs. He glared at the blonde man before him who was gazing down at him with blank, cold eyes.

A moment passed. Then Legolas turned to Irulan, who was anxiously trying to see if Russel was all right. "I am sorry," he said slowly.

"No you are not," Irulan said and Russel looked up at the coldness of her tone.

"Irulan..."

"No, Legolas. I've had it! You said that there would be no repetition. What, then, do you call THIS?!"

The elf swallowed and tried to will back his calmness. "Am I to tolerate such rudeness, then?" he seethed finally. "Would you want me to kneel before him, too, Irulan?" The proud warrior in him punched and kicked furiously inside his head at the thought alone. "I have not come this far to bow to HIM," was the dangerous addition.

"Enough!" Irulan cut in, releasing Russel, who was watching the dialogue with increasing confusion. "You and your pride! Don't you see how destructive it is?" Legolas took a deep breath and held his silence. He had nothing to say to that. "Is it because he is human, Legolas?" was her question, the tone low and sarcastic.

"No." He matched her gaze. "I would have bowed before Aragorn." They stared at each other for a long moment with a silent Russel looking from one to the other. "If you asked it of me," he said then, turning to her completely, "I would bow to you too, Irulan."

"I don't ask for such a stupid thing," she said with haste, more than disturbed by the idea. The last thing she needed was a kneeling Legolas. The idea woke deep shame in her. Who was she, to make an elf kneel to her? A nobody. "And what I ask, you refuse to give, anyway," was her dry addition.

"Whoa whoa whoa, you guys," Russel intervened, raising his hands. "What exactly is going on here?"

"Shut up, Russel!" Irulan groaned without glancing in his direction. "For months I have been saying 'no'. Is it me or are you having a problem with grasping that word, Legolas?"

"All I ask for is a second chance," he growled in reply, taking a step towards her. "Don't you see? I can NOT let go. It is beyond my power!" A moment of silence issued. "It's not fair to ask for something beyond my power."

"Look...I think…" Russel tried again, but was cut off by Legolas this time.

"We have not asked for your opinion!" The elf, like Irulan, didn't bother to look at him and kept his eyes on the woman, who crossed her arms on her chest in a defensive manner. "Irulan," he said then, gentler, "I am cursed, for I lack the gift of forgetting. I cannot forget. Not a single thing." He took another step and she inched back towards Russel, disturbed. "Not the bad memories. But...not the good ones, either." He swallowed, casting down his gaze for a moment. When he looked up again, the blue of his eyes had deepened into azure. "I thought bad recollections were my punishment. Now I know better. It is the good ones, Irulan. It is the fact that I had them...and will never have them again." He inched closer, oblivious to Russel who, without being aware of it, grasped Irulan's arm out of sheer protectiveness. "Do not ask me to forget what happened between us. It is not in my nature. Those memories are my salvation." He halted then, looming above her. "And my damnation."

"How about your memories with Amanda?" Russel said into the silence. He could have slapped Legolas and it would have had less of an effect. The silence became so deep that the clatter and tumult of Chinatown around them was loud as Hell.

Legolas clenched his fists to still their trembling. He could not remember a time when he was so tempted to kill someone and had to stop himself from doing so. Stuck in indecision, he tried to keep his mind and his eyes on Irulan. She, however, didn't have the same reaction to Russel's intervention. "Yes?" she said, pushing up her chin. "How about those?"

"You know me better than that," he hissed between his teeth. He knew well enough that she didn't know him that well. And yet, he felt like she _should_ – against all odds.

"It wouldn't be the first time you have held secrets from me, Legolas," was her slow reply.

That was the second slap on his face and for a moment he felt his breath taken away, unable to think a single thing. "Don't speak like that," was all he managed to say, feeling both furious and hurt at the same time. "I have not been chasing you for months to be with another, Irulan."

She bit her lip, suddenly ashamed. The idea that Legolas had been trying to juggle both herself and Amanda staggered and crumbled and to her own horror, Irulan felt dirty to have thought of it in the first place. But that did not really explain why he had been meeting her for an entire week. Russel must have been thinking the same thing, because he spoke again. "Whatever! Let's go, Irulan."

She threw a pained glance in the elf's direction. "Yes," she wheezed finally. "I don't...feel so well."

Russel grasped her arm tighter and placed his palm on her forehead. "You have a fever!" he groaned finally. "We're going home this instant!"

"I will take her!" Legolas said, clenching his fists so hard that his bones cracked. This time he DID look at Russel and the man stopped breathing at the gaze he received. "It is obvious that your caretaking is a failure." Russel swallowed, afraid to counter the man in front of him, and simply grabbed Irulan's arm again. The elf's gaze softened when he glanced back at the woman. "Irulan," he began, his tone softening as well, "allow me to take you to the hotel. I will take care of you. And I will explain everything."

She gave him a long, pained look. Russel grasped her arm strong enough to hurt and made her meet his eyes. He didn't have the guts to speak his objection, so he just slowly shook his head instead. She sighed and turned to Legolas who was waiting for her reply. "I think...I should go home, Legolas."

His expression showed no disappointment, though it seeped out from him. He clenched his jaws and didn't divert his eyes. "I suppose I am not invited any longer," was his final, bitter statement as he focused on the sidewalk with a frustrated exhale. The hopelessness that had deserted him for several days now sunk bank on his spirit, bringing a foul taste of defeat with it. 'It's impossible,' a voice hissed with amusement in his head. 'She will never bend. She will never forgive. It is broken beyond repair.'

"I need time," she managed to say.

He hung his head, a wry smile on his lips. Chinatown dwindled between them with its noise and its smells. 'I can have anyone I want,' he thought, hope leaving his shores very much like the White Ship had left Rhun ages upon ages ago. 'Anyone...but her.' The more he tried, the more she seemed to fall back, out of reach. Was it pride that made him come back for more, or the lack of it? Was it love or the hope for it? "I don't know, anymore," he murmured, shaking his head.

When he looked up, Anne had joined the duo and all were staring at him with a mixture of anxiety, fear and regret. But he refused to follow a hopeless passion. No…not anymore. He wanted the truth and here and ow. "This is it, then?" he said with a firmer voice, forcing the blankness onto his face. "This is our final moment, Irulan?"

Irulan opened her mouth, then closed it. Was this really it? Maybe it was not meant to be, after all. It started so abrupt and maybe it was destined to end this sad. And what did she feel in reply to it? Relief? Satisfaction? Ironically, neither. Even now, when she was just at the beginning of her so long desired solitude, she felt regret. And if she were not cursed with Aragorn's foolish pride –along with a sincere fear towards Legolas and the kind of creature he was- she would have turned away from that solitude while there was still time.

"Come now, guys!" Amanda cut in, laughing a nervous laughter and glancing from one to the other. "Don't be sil...-"

"Is this how we end?" Legolas continued with an overriding tone, his eyes fixed on Irulan only.

"I guess," she countered finally, after a rather long silence, "it wasn't meant to be, Legolas."

"You guess wrong," was all he said before he strode away, leaving a statuesque trio standing behind.

A long silence set in. And this time, it was deep enough to kill even the Chinatown noise. "You did NOT just do that," Anne said finally, slowly turning to face her friend. "Irulan!" Irulan only swallowed and concentrated on keeping the tears off her eyes. "Tell me that you didn't just..."

"Wake up, Anne!" she snapped, glaring at the blonde woman. She opened her mouth to speak further, but her voice seemed dangerously close to breaking so she shut it back, afraid to shame herself further. Instead, she whimpered in frustration and strode away as well, this time leaving a tantalized duo behind.

"Not AGAIN!!" Anne moaned, throwing up her hands. "All that work! For damn nothing!!"

Russel massaged his face, shaking his head. "This is beyond me," he mumbled, throwing a look in the direction where Legolas had just gone, and then watched Irulan headed the other way. "What just happened?"

"Russel!"

"Whoa! Stop shrieking, woman!" he said, holding up his hands. "Okay...forget it! I don't want to know!" A moment passed while he massaged his neck and Anne crossed her arms on her chest, furiously biting her lip. "I have only one damn question!"

"Ask, then!" moaned Anne, giving him an annoyed glance.

"Why on earth did she call him 'Legolas'?"


	7. I Dreamt Salvation

"How is she doing today?"

"I would know if I got to see her," Russel murmured from the sofa.

Anne threw her bag next to him, looming above him with her crossed arms. "What are you doing if you are not tending to her, may I ask?"

Russel looked up from the book he was reading. "Are you absolutely sure of this, Anne?" She rolled her eyes and strode to the kitchen to turn on the stove. She put on a kettle to heat water, and when she turned around, barely found the time to gasp with surprise. "I mean...this is...insane!" he hissed with urgency, grasping her arm.

"I know," Anne groaned and walked by him towards the cabinet. "You'll get used to it. Will take some time, though."

He remained on his spot, agape, the book clenched under his arm, his finger marking the spot. "But..." he began, moments later, with the same urgent whisper, "...how...I mean...how could he be..."

"For God's sake, Russel! How many times do I need to tell you? He is Legolas. THE Legolas. And Eric is Haldir. THE Haldir. And Irulan is Aragorn's..."

"Stop!" he groaned and held up the book to his face, as if seeking protection. "It's too much!" A moment passed while she crossed her arms once more and looked up at him with an amused expression. "So...all this stuff..." he began, slowly lowering the book with a look of awe on his face, "was true?"

"Wrong, Russel," she said, smiling slyly. "All that stuff IS true."

He groaned in reply to that and she sighed, giving him an overall look. Her eyes glided to the title of the volume in his hand: _The Two Towers_. "I know how you feel. I really do. It's not easy to digest."

"You can say that again," he moaned, scratching his head.

"Too bad that you had such a hasty introduction," she sighed and went back to the stove to turn it off. The steam washed up to her face as she poured the hot water into the cup that held a bag of herbal tea. "I mean," she shook her head, grinning to herself, "a head-on bust with Legolas himself on your first meeting!" Russel looked back with a dry expression when she glanced at him. "That's not your usual meeting with elves." He moaned again and hit his forehead with the book with a loud thud. "And it got even worse after that," Anne chirped, her grin broadening. "Wait...did you really threaten him?"

"Oh stop!" he huffed and walked back to the living room. He caught himself biting his nails and immediately snatched his hand back. "I must say...the guy has some patience not to kill me off."

"It's not his patience that you should be grateful for," she chimed, passing by him and making towards the bedroom, "but the fact that you are Irulan's friend." She heard him sink back onto the couch once more with a frustrated sigh as she arrived at the door and knocked. As usual, no sound came from within. Anne ignored the lack of reply and dived in.

"Go away," was the mumble of a statement from the huddled form on the bed.

"Grow up," the blonde woman countered without a blink and walked to sit on the edge of the bed.

"This is MY room, damn it!" Irulan moaned and turned to lie on her back, staring at the ceiling.

"And I am YOUR friend. I have permission. Now let me see how much uglier you got today." She glanced at Irulan's face. "Oh my...if you keep this up, you'll sure scare ME away, Irulan."

"One can only hope," the other mumbled, still staring at the ceiling. She was aware, of course, that she must look horrible. It had been 3 days since Chinatown and the illness had returned with renewed fervor. By this time, Irulan was suspecting a strange relation between this damnable flu and her relationship with Legolas, but she would die sooner than admit it.

Anne showed the mug. "Up, Irulan. You have to drink this."

The other huffed and remained motionless for another moment, then slowly forced herself to sit up. She smelled the sweat that was hanging in the air and the dank odor of sickness. Anne sighed and moved to the windows to part the curtains. Thankfully the weather fit her mood – it was a humid, wet summer twilight and therefore there was no assault of light into the room. "How is Russel?" she croaked.

"In shock," Anne murmured, gazing into the street before she returned to sit at the edge. "He'll get over it."

"How can I be so stupid?!" Irulan hissed, her fingers gliding over the hot mug nervously.

"I didn't realize that you were calling him by his real name, either. And..." she grinned to that, "...neither did Legolas, I must add." After that, they had had no option but to reveal the whole truth to Russel, who would have never bought a false and stupid explanation. Not that Irulan or Anne had the imagination to come up with a false explanation to something like that, anyway. Irulan rolled her eyes and looked away, taking a sip from the tea. "Haldir says he is sick," Anne added with a cautious tone. The sick woman stilled and for a moment the only sound that was heard was her gulping down the tea in her mouth. "He calls me every damn hour," was the moan of an addition. "The guy is so panicked, I find it hard to believe that he is the elven warrior and I am the human who has to console him!"

"Is he...I mean..." she cleared her throat, "...how sick?"

"I don't know," Anne shrugged. "I guess nothing major. Sounds like the flu that you have. But of course him being an elf and the fact that elves never get sick...." She let her voice trail and gave Irulan a sidelong glance to measure her reaction. To her expectation, the news seemed to disturb the other woman.

"He'll be fine," Irulan groaned finally, sitting back to lean onto the headboard. Anne said nothing. And her silence was more annoying than her usual accusations. "It's probably this...Bond or something," Irulan continued, waving her free hand dismissively. "He'll be all right when it's..." she bit her lip, short from saying 'dead' and instead croaked "...over."

"Your pride, Irulan," Anne said suddenly, hissing into the silent room, "has made both of you sick!" Irulan met her gaze and held her breath with the fury she saw in those eyes. "And STILL all you do is wave your hand dismissively." Irulan swallowed, feeling a blush of shame creeping onto her cheeks. At this moment all she wanted to do was to break down and cry on Anne's shoulder but Anne looked like she would sooner offer her fist than her shoulder. "When you were ill, he rushed here as if his life was on the line. And YOU...you wave your hand!" The last part came out rather loud and Irulan placed the shaking mug on her lap, looking down at it.

Several minutes later Anne got up and walked to the door. She was a person who seldom got angry. But her anger was one that should to be avoided. She looked back at Irulan for a long moment before she spoke again. "I'm glad that Baeron isn't here to see it. Would have been torture for him to know that he died for this pride."

That was a slap Irulan was not expecting. She fell back onto the bedboard with a thud, her eyes wide with shock, her hands shaking. The rational part of her hastily placed the mug away before she sank onto the pillows again. The major part, though, was too ashamed to think of anything other than the continuing echo of Anne's last words in her head.

* * *

"/My Lord, forgive me for saying this...but...this is...foolish!/" Legolas did not answer. He continued inspecting the designs on the ceiling in his room. His focus was on himself. Or rather, his physical status. Sickness was a completely new experience and unlike the bewildered Haldir, he thought it rather interesting. The elven rambling in the background continued. "/...obvious that it's the Bond! You MUST do something! It is not natural! Not normal! And certainly not good!/"

"It'll pass," he said finally, closing his eyes. When he looked up again, Haldir was looming over him with a worry that looked rather silly on his face. "You know it will. It is just a phase."

"Just a phase!" Haldir huffed, then reverted back to Elvish "/She is ill, too – you know that./"

"I know," was the late and slow reply.

"Well good to know that you care so much!" If it had not come from Haldir, he would have called the tone downright sarcastic. But Haldir would never be sarcastic to Legolas. But then again...Haldir would not be this worried for anything, either.

"Russel will take good care of her, I'm sure," he spat before he could stop himself. His furious blue gaze locked into the sheepish one of the Lothlorien elf and they stared at each other, mirror images of beauty and anger. A long moment passed and the clock ticked on.

"Very much like Amanda takes care of you, I suppose," was the dry reply.

Legolas' eyebrows rose in surprise at the attitude he was witnessing. It took him several moments to digest it and when he opened his mouth for a harsh statement, it was too late. For Amanda chose to stride in right at that moment. "Hello Eric! How are you?"

Haldir's eyes gained an apparent frostiness at her tone, but he took his time to turn around and look at her. "Good. Thank you."

Amanda smiled a gorgeous smile, walking by him to sit at the edge of the bed. She had not noticed that Haldir had avoided asking the same question to her, on purpose. "And how are you?" she said with a slow, deep tone, brushing Legolas' hair from his face.

"In an interesting state, no doubt," Legolas said. Even though he was sick, his smile was breath-taking. Amanda's eyes sparkled with it and to Haldir's utter surprise she hesitated only for a moment before she leaned in to place a single quick kiss on his lips. When she pulled back, her excitement was spreading on her cheeks in a beguiling blush and she swallowed nervously before she turned to look up at Haldir.

"So nice of you to visit, Eric," she said, her voice shaking with excitement at the simple gesture from a moment ago.

"I came to visit _Heath_," Haldir stressed with a frosty tone. It was the second time he managed to surprise Legolas. And merely minutes apart, too! The Prince's gaze rose to him once more and found nothing but cool composure in the stance of the other. It was very unlike Haldir to be this rude. Especially to a lady. Especially to one of his friends. Like all elves, Haldir was almost obsessed with politeness and etiquette and for him to shut off Amanda like he did now was a first since Legolas had met him. And Legolas had met him a long, long time ago. "But I suppose I can leave now that YOU are here."

Amanda's excitement vanished as quickly as it had come and melted first into confusion, then quickly into fear. She had no clue what was going on, but this attitude was both unusual and rather scary to her, so she kept her silence, casting down her eyes. Haldir met Legolas' furious look rather easily and meant to match it, too. Unfortunately the phone rang.

All three remained another moment in the tense atmosphere they were dragged into, and finally it was Amanda who decided to make herself useful and picked up the phone. "Yes? Yes, of course." A short silence. "Hello?" Amanda said into the receiver, her voice a little strained. "Yes...how are you?" Another interlude as Legolas strained to hear the voice on the other end but the sickness seemed to have weakened his senses, too. When the blonde woman turned to glance back at him he just raised his eyebrows in question. "Yes...of course," Amanda continued dryly and then walked up to Legolas with the cordless phone in her hand. "It's Irulan," she said and his hand froze in mid-air.

Haldir, who had walked towards the tall windows and had been watching the view outside turned around with a surprised look on his face and the looks of both elves met. Legolas then slowly looked up to meet the slanted blue eyes of Amanda. He hesitated only to give her a reassuring smile before he grasped the phone. She bit her lip with anxiety, then made to walk out. "No," Legolas said, "stay." Amanda halted in her tracks, surprised. He took a deep breath and said "Yes, Irulan?" into the receiver.

"Hello, Legolas." Her voice was raspy. Evident proof that she was indeed sick again. Though it was more than expected, he still felt a stab of worry with the thought. "How are you?"

"Fine." His tone was completely expressionless. "And you?"

"I heard you were ill," Irulan said after a moment of hesitation. Obviously she was not expecting such a cold treatment.

"I'll get over it," was his dismissive reply. 'Control yourself,' Legolas chanted in his head over and over again. 'It is over. Don't forget. It is over.' He took a deep breath, his eyes gliding to Amanda, who stood a few feet away, unsure what to do with herself. "Is everything all right?" he said finally, to break the long silence. It was awkward enough to speak with Irulan like this - as if she was anybody, not the love of his life. And it was becoming harder by the minute.

"Yes," she stammered, thrown off-balance by his attitude. "Yes. I just...I called because..." She swallowed and he waited in silence. "...I'm sorry, Legolas. I want to apologize."

"Please don't," he said, amazed by how blank he sounded, himself. "I am the one to apologize. For the discomfort I caused for the past months."

Irulan felt herself at the brink of tears. Though she knew that this was no other than Legolas, at that moment she could have sworn that it was someone else - a complete stranger. Surely not the man who had been whispering nothing but support and compliments to her for months! Who had been nothing but willing and kind! His distance was not the worst part, though. It was the fact that she deserved this treatment. This and much worse. She opened her mouth, then closed it, afraid that she would utter a whimper instead. Only after several deep breaths did she find the ability to continue. "I'm sorry," she whispered then, "I don't...I don't think I will...see you for a while?" Irulan managed to make the question tentative and even inviting. And in her heart of hearts she wanted him to say 'Silly you. Of course you will see me! As soon as I get off this bed and come banging on your door again!'

"You won't see me ever again," was the real answer, though. She gasped deftly with his words and Legolas hesitated, suddenly very uncomfortable at his own attitude. Certainly this was not what he wanted to tell Irulan! Surely this shouldn't be his way of parting from someone so dear! This was...human and low. He was a man of finer nature and much better class.

"I know I deserved this," she said finally and Legolas could hear it in her voice that she was crying and trying not to show it. His defenses threatened to give in quite a bit at that. "And more than this. I am ashamed. I am no heir of Aragorn, Legolas."

"The sad part is that you are," was his slow comment. 'Stop it!' the voice in his head screamed at that and he sat up with discomfort, growing aware of what he had just said. Irulan had called to apologize and he was hitting her back for it. "It doesn't matter any longer," he added with haste. He was aware that it would never undo his sharp words from a moment ago and he felt sizzling shame at the realization of his utterance. "It is over, Irulan. You won. I lost. We have said our good-byes." Though it was said to make up for his blunder a moment ago, it seemed an even harsher thing to say. Legolas swallowed and sat up further. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. This was NOT how he wanted to speak to her. Not at all. A distant part of him felt Amanda's hand on his shoulder, but his focus was on Irulan alone.

She didn't speak for several moments and just when he was about to beg for apology and forgiveness, she whispered, "It seems so. I was only hoping..."

She didn't continue and Legolas surprised himself once again by speaking up. "To stay friends?" He swallowed the bitter taste that came every time he uttered the word. "I don't want to be your friend, Irulan," was his last statement.

"Yes," she said finally and gulped down another whimper. "I understand. Good-bye, Legolas."

He said nothing in return, suddenly feeling very anxious. He had not uttered this word and a part of him still refused to utter it. It sounded...wrong. Very wrong. No matter what happened between them..it sounded wrong.

Before he could reply in any fashion, she hung up on him. And it was probably a better thing, with the way he was speaking today. He remained motionless for another moment, then turned off the phone. "What just happened?" Haldir said with heavy disbelief in his voice, approaching the bed.

"Nothing," murmured Legolas. He took another deep breath, feeling euphoria setting in. "Nothing," he repeated with a stronger tone a moment later when he locked eyes with the Marchwarden. "The past is forever behind us." He glanced at Amanda and she glided to sit down on the edge of the bed once more. "We should look ahead. To the future." Haldir's eyes spoke volumes when Legolas met his gaze once more, trying to sound as certain as he wished he was. "It is time to forget."

"That, my friend," was Haldir's dry reply as he walked towards the door, "is a luxury YOU don't have."

Legolas watched him exit. He felt the sickness pulsing in his veins, dulling his brain, clogging his lungs. 'How can humans think with so much chaos in their bodies?' he thought distantly. Haldir closed the door behind him and Legolas exhaled in frustration. In a matter of minutes he seemed to have lost two of the dearest people to him. Amanda sighed and lay her palm against his face. The cool touch felt incredibly good. At the same time, it felt sinful and dirty in an unexplainable manner. He smiled to her, hoping that his elven blankness would serve to hide his true sentiments.

* * *

Irulan sank bed onto the bed. The noise from the main street was dwindling into her room, which was located in a tiny side street. She sat in the dark, listening to the cluster of music, shouting, laughter, singing, and exclamations. At the moment, these sentiments were incredibly foreign and made her feel...alien. A stranger. An outsider. Right now, being in New York in this giddy summer time made her feel as if she was in a country that was as different from her own as could be and she was completely clueless. A fear came onto her. But with the fear came also a certain desire to BE an alien. To BE away from all that she had grown fond of and all that she was familiar with. She wanted to be punished. She wanted a bill to pay. And at the same time, she wanted to defy all of it and damn the bill and show the world that she didn't care about her sins, or her crimes.

Finally the unthinkable had happened. Legolas had refused her. Rejected her. Legolas had said that it was final. And so it would be. "Why can't we be together?" she thought, a deep ache buzzing in her heart. "Why can't we be apart?" She looked back at their brief time together, then their longer phase apart and found only chaos, fight, struggle, deceit. And yet, there was the glimmer of true love amongst those pillars of fire – calming and soothing. Was it enough to balance the madness?

"_How free are those without any choice"_, she wrote in her laptop that day. _"If only I could have such luxury! If only I had less pride and fear and if only I would not take every choice so much to the heart! If I could have just flung myself into this affair and enjoyed the amazing courting of Legolas! But no...I am no such woman. For me, the world is not a checkboard of pleasure and the lack of it. Curse this complicated brain of mine! I yearn to be free – I yearn to be without choice."_

That night, when she was lying in her bed and watching the ceiling glimmer with the dim light of the tumult from outside, Irulan thought of China. The tundras of China that she had meant to see with Baeron. And then she thought of Baeron's estate that was somewhere in a small village, in the inner wild lands of China. One of his many estates. That now belonged to her.

The idea woke something in her. And though she did not know exactly what it was, it was suspiciously similar to what people called 'wanderlust'. The desire to hit the road. To walk out and end somewhere new and uncharted. To see things that stood at the other side of this planet, waiting with alluring charm for her to taste them, touch them, patiently observe them.

She sighed and turned to her side. 'Why not go?' she thought. The terrible part was that she had no answer why she should not go. She could tell her boss that she would be writing an article about China. Or her experience with the people there. The trip itself. He would be more than supportive. Anything foreign and exotic was a welcome for a NY magazine. "So why not go?" she thought again.

And fell asleep on the thought.

In her dream, she was sitting in knee-high grass on an open plain. Sharp outlines of hills stood scattered in the mist that surrounded the grassy plain. It was silent, only the occasional chirping of a bird or the humming of an insect was audible. There was a humid, slightly cool breeze in the air and the dry, scratchy grass shuddered and hissed with it.

"Very different, isn't it?" Baeron said from beside her. In reality she would have thought it strange, maybe even eerie for him to be there with her. But in this dream world, it seemed completely normal. She smiled and gave him a sidelong glance. He looked as majestic as ever – his tousled sandy hair, his beautiful, masculine facial features...dark navy jeans and a black wool turtleneck made him look even more handsome, if such a thing was possible. "You should see this, Irulan," he sighed, fumbling with a piece of grass between his fingers.

"It seems very...disconnected from the rest of the world," she said a long moment later, as the crickets sang a chorus around her.

"Aye," was the whisper of a reply. "Helps you to look at things from the outside. From another angle."

Irulan took a deep breath, the overpowering scent of nature heavy in her lungs. She felt his hand on the back of her head, then, combing through her hair. "Ancient days linger in this place," he whispered many moments later, just when the drowsiness of relaxation was setting in on her. "I feel at home in such settings. They are old. Like me." A moment passed as his long fingers kept combing through her dark mane. "You should see this," he sighed once more. "You should see _me_."

She opened her eyes with the sound of someone dropping a bunch of metal objects outside in the street. It took her several moments to understand where she was, so real had been the dream. New York swam back to her with a lazy pace. She sighed, her eyes tearing despite herself. "Baeron," she whispered and the familiar ache dwindled into her spirit. "Baeron. Help me."

It was many minutes later, when her hot tears had begun to dry on her face when she realized that he already had.

* * *

"Irulan? Come now...don't be childish. Open the door and we can..."

"The door is open."

Anne gave Russel an anxious glance and the other stared back, shrugging. She sighed and turned the knob. As promised, it opened easily enough. The view that greeted the duo was not a very appealing one.

The room that had been placid and dark with sickness for the last few days was in complete chaos at the moment. Every piece of clothing seemed to have been removed from the drawers and the closets, and then thrown leisurely over the shoulder. The chamber was full with them. In the middle, stood Irulan. Or rather, she MOVED there, going back and forth in a dizzying pace. "What on earth...?" began Russel, but found nothing to say. So Anne continued, instead:

"Irulan...are you going through a seizure or something?" She had no clue what the violation of the Bond was capable of doing and Haldir had only mentioned minor sickness for Irulan...but at the moment, she dared to think otherwise.

"I am well, thank you", was her dry reply as she didn't even so much as glance in their direction. "And," she sighed, stuffing another article into the large backpack on the bed, "and before you ask – yes, I am going away."

For a moment, the usually over-chatty duo truly found nothing to say. Which was a miraculous state for both Anne and Russel.

"I decided to take a break," Irulan said, her eyes wandering in the chamber.

"When...when will you come back?" Russel heard himself saying.

"I don't know," was the dry response.

"Wh-what?!"

"I – don't – know," Irulan repeated, this time locking eyes with Anne. Her stare glided at Russel beside her, then. "I need to...I need to go. That's all I know."

Another moment of silence. Again, Russel broke it first. "Where to?"

"China," Irulan sighed and found a pen to slide into one of the many pockets of her backpack.

"CHINA?!" When Irulan's head snapped around to give him an amazed look, he managed to soften his tone a bit. "I mean...why China?"

She shrugged. "Why not?" She slowly sank onto the bed, fixing her eyes on the floor. "Baeron had an estate there. I will go and see it."

"Irulan," Anne said, finally waking from her trance, "are you insane? China? Now? You don't even..."

"Yes, Anne!" The hiss stopped her immediately. "China. Now. Me. And let me tell you that I've had it with being suffocated by you two!" They swallowed simultaneously, giving her an uneasy look. "I already have a mother, Anne. And a father, too, Russel. So thank you very much, but your current role in my life is rather unnecessary. I am going. I...need to clear my mind."

"But why China, Irulan?" Russel tried, softer. "You don't know that place! And I mean...where is this estate?" By the look she gave him, he knew he had assumed the "father" role again and hastily added "I mean...why not...Florence? Or...I don't know...the Carribean? Eh...Greece?"

"Because China is as far as I can go, before I start coming back, Russel!" she spat to him. "It's on the other side of the planet!"

"But..."

"I am going, damn it!"

Another tense silence. Finally Anne sighed. "Fine. I always wanted to see China, anyway."

"You are not coming Anne," she sighed and rose up once more to continue her packing. "And no, neither are you, Russel."

"But..."

"NO! Enough! I want to be alone!" They stopped immediately when Irulan reeled to them with that fire in her eyes. "I don't need anyone. I don't WANT anyone."

"But...we...why?"

She remained, her back turned to her friends. All she wanted to say was 'Because I am a disgusting, unworthy person and I don't deserve friends!' She swallowed and looked at her backpack. 'Because I am selfish and weak and I can't find it in myself to change. Who am I to ask Legolas to change? Me, who can't be anything but...THIS!' Instead, though, she said "Because I don't want YOU." She turned to glare at the woman and the man, who seemed to be too shocked to look hurt. "Goodbye."

She returned to the act of packing and ignored her friends rooted at the doorstep. 'I have no friends,' she told herself over and over again. 'I have no one. I am alone. I deserve to be alone.'

After many minutes Anne slowly closed the door. She walked back to the living room and Russel followed, slowly. "This is all my fault," the blonde woman was whispering. "All this is my fault."

"Come on, Anne!" he protested -perhaps a bit too strongly to prevent her from the dread she was in- "You went to visit Legolas and told him that Irulan was sick. It was a good deed. How can this all be your fault?" She bit her lip and sank onto the sofa while he imitated her. "Besides," he added a moment later, "it may be a good thing. This...trip, I mean. Irulan is right, you know. She needs her space. And now since there is no Legolas, either...she might actually get it."

Anne shook her head in denial. "No, Russel. China? Irulan? Alone? It has 'trouble' written all over it!" Russel, of course, knew this to be true, therefore wisely shut his mouth. "And Legolas!" She moaned, covering her face with her hands. "All this is MY fault!" True enough, if Anne hadn't presented Russel as Irulan's new suitor, Legolas would have never acted as he did. And if he had not acted like that, they would be having dinner at a nice restaurant while the elves told them of ancient tales.

"But how?"

"Doesn't matter how. It is, believe me."

Russel believed her, of course. Since Anne had always been the perfect meddler. "At least now you know that you shouldn't meddle," he growled, with a tint of satisfaction.

"No," sighed Anne, looking up at him. "I know that I should meddle better."


	8. On the Trail of the Great Beast, Again

_Thank you for the amazing reviews! Believe me, they help a lot. _

_My beta is busy these days and I didn't to squeeze myself into her schedule. Neither did I want to wait for posting. So please ignore the spelling mistakes in this chapter. I will replace it with the edited version as soon as she has the time to do it. _

_Also, please read the author's note at the end of the story. I think it will help to understand certain aspects of the story._

* * *

Two more days passed and the disease dwindled into minor aches. Nobody called. Nobody disturbed the comfortable numbness that licked his shore like waves of oblivion. Legolas felt tempted to give in to it. He WANTED to give in to it. He wanted to close the door and open another. 

But...things had their natural pace. And the world didn't turn to please elf or Man. The feeling of disturbance that had settled on Legolas right after his phone conversation with Irulan gained strength. He tried to push it away, to burry it, to ignore it. But it returned with renewed favor. The fight was useless. The voice of his conscience won each and every time.

'I have betrayed Aragorn,' he thought the next day. It sounded horrendous and for a short while he tried to convince himself that he was overreacting. A VERY short while. 'I have betrayed Aragorn,' he sighed finally. 'I have told him that I would look over his kind. And behold what I have done to his OWN kin!' He grunted and turned sideways on the bed. No matter how hard to accept, the fact was that he had let down Aragorn AND hurt Irulan. The combination was too much to bear and Legolas felt the first drops of remorse seeping into his spirit.

However, along with remorse for his cruel attitude towards Irulan there was also a truth that he could not deny any longer – it had to stop. He would not throw himself at Irulan's feet anymore. She didn't want him and that was final. Too many times she had made that rather clear. It had been that damnable hope that had pushed him on. Hope that she would forget. Hope that HE would forget. But only a fool would seek hope where there was none.

On the fifth day that followed Chinatown, when summer heat was basking in his room and Amanda was chirping about how amazing the trip to Egypt would be once Legolas had healed fully, there was a knock on the door and Haldir walked in. The tense feelings that they had parted with sparked to life in an instant and for a moment Amanda felt as if she was still in the same room, reliving the very moment of two days ago. This time she was definitely not staying to face the heat again. She mumbled about needing to get something from the supermarket –which sounded rather silly in a hotel that could provide anything she needed in higher quality- and throwing a quick glance at Haldir, walked by him to exit the room.

After a moment of staring, it was the other elf who broke the silence. "I leave New York today." He sighed before he continued. "I did not want to part on bad terms."

Legolas exhaled in frustration and got up from the bed to walk up to the table to fill himself a glass of water. The black cotton outfit he had on accented his beautiful, lithe form. "That would not happen to us," was his late reply. He gave the crystal glass in his hand a long look before he turned around. "We have survived many grave times together. Such things could not tear us apart."

Haldir smiled a beguiling smile and shook his head in amusement. "No, they couldn't. No matter what, I love and respect you, my Lord."

"And I you, my friend," the other said with a similar smile.

After another, but far more comfortable silence Haldir sighed once more. "I wish you happiness with Amanda. She seems to be a kind woman." Legolas merely nodded, his eyes fixed on the other. "I will apologize for my harshness from before."

"I'm sure she will understand." Haldir smiled wider then and glanced out the window as if wishing to assess the time. No elf carried a watch, able to sense the time rather accurately due to their biological structure. "Your leaving is rather unexpected. Is it something concerning the Circle?"

"No. It is personal in nature."

Legolas nodded and placed the crystal glass back, "Where to?"

"China."

The Prince turned to the other, a look of both suspicion and amusement on his face. "Really?" he said with a dreamy voice. "It has been a while, hasn't it?"

"Indeed," exhaled Haldir, not without a bit of annoyance. "It's not my favorite place to visit, that's for sure."

The amused smile on Legolas' face turned into a grin. He knew the not so fond adventures of Haldir in that country. "Would it be too personal if I asked you the reason that drags you back there?" he said, crossing his arms on his chest and leaning back onto the table.

Haldir shook his head with irritation then waved his hand dismissively before he made to the door. "Irulan."

He actually managed to take five steps before Legolas found the voice to speak up behind his back. "Pardon me?!"

Though it sounded too human-like in tone for the man that Legolas was, when the Marchwarden turned to glance over his shoulder, a perfect expression of innocence was on his face, as if he had not noticed at all. "I said 'Irulan'." He nodded once as farewell, then turned to take another step towards the door.

"I heard what you said." The flutter of a smile rushed over Haldir's lips at the dryness of his friend's tone. But when he halted in his step and turned to face Legolas once more, again, no trace of it was visible. "Explain!" came the command.

"Explain?" Haldir repeated, a bit dumbfounded. "I'm afraid there's no time for that, my friend." He squinted his eyes and glanced at the window again. "Nothing to concern yourself with. I will take care of it."

The Mirkwood elf pursed his lips. He shouldn't ask. It was none of his concern anymore. He nodded as a sign of acceptance. Haldir smiled once again and slightly bowed his head before he turned on his heels to continue his walk. His steps were leisure and small, nevertheless it took only three steps for Legolas to speak up behind him again. "How long will you stay?"

The academy award of the year should have gone for Haldir. For he was perfect when he turned and glanced at the ceiling as if trying to recall. "That depends on how soon I can find her," was the dismissive reply. Legolas' eyes widened slightly. He remained stubbornly silent and Haldir continued "And the sooner I go, the sooner that will happen, of course. So...until we meet again, Legolas." He turned away, but this time didn't get to walk.

"Is there a problem, Haldir?"

The marchwarden turned fully and faced Legolas. The distance between them was not small, and yet their eyes met and clicked as if they were only a foot away from each other. "Yes. But not for long. I must go."

"What kind of problem?" Legolas seethed, placing his hands on the table behind him and leaning back with a dangerous, feral grace.

"Legolas...I really don't think you should bother. I will make sure that..."

"Enough, Haldir!" The command in his tone cut the other off immediately. "Answer the question."

"I will be late for my plane," was the final and sheepish reply. It received only raised eyebrows in return. "Fine. Irulan is in China. I must find her." He waited another moment. "That's about it." The extremely furious look he received from Legolas made him speak up before the other one did. "It seems she just took off and went there. Anne and Russel are out of their minds with worry. And...to be honest...so am I. I intend to find her and bring her back." Another hesitation. "Though it will be hard. Considering that she has no intentions of returning to New York..."

Legolas took a sharp breath with that. "Irulan would never leave New York for good. It's her home."

"Yes, well...obviously it's not, anymore."

"Is she in some sort of trouble?" Legolas managed to say a long moment later. He swallowed sofly and waited in anticipation of the reply.

"Not if I can help it," was Haldir's late and evasive reply. He locked eyes with the surprised gaze of the other, giving him an apprehensive look. "Look...don't worry, Legolas. It's not your concern any longer."

"What does that mean?" the other elf seethed with suppressed fury. "Our affair may have ended. But since when do I turn my back to those in need out of personal...problems?"

"You misunderstand me, my friend," Haldir sighed, throwing up his hands in defense. "All I'm saying is...you are at the threshold of a new beginning. We would not want to complicate..." He halted when Legolas took a slow, deep breath, his eyes twinkling with further anger. "I'll let you know how it goes. You don't have to..."

"Enough of what I have to and what I don't have to do!" Legolas whispered with a dangerous tone, cutting Haldir off once more. "Why on earth would she go to China?"

Haldir bit his cheeks. After another moment of pretense hesitation, pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. Under the Prince's watchful gaze that spoke of a mixture of fear and anxiety, he walked up and offered it to him. Legolas took the parchment between his fingers and unfolded it. His eyes glided over the letters. He had made enough stalking and tracking to know Irulan's handwriting, but this one was unfortunately written on a computer and printed out.

* * *

"_Dear Anne and Russel_," it began. "Forgive _me, I have to go..._" 

"..._'I am leaving __New York__'_, period. _'For good'_, period. _'Please don't look for me_', period..."

"Anne...I mean...this has 'fake' written all over it!"

Anne gave him a dry look. "It's her farewell letter for God's sake! It has to be dramatic."

Russel rolled his eyes. If he was not so utterly fond of her, he would say Anne was more than difficult. But sadly even her irritating habits were extremely attractive to him. "Farewell or not. Irulan was never dramatic. I mean...she just got up and left, didn't she?"

"Nice! Let's just go ahead and write that she went on a damn bloody holiday, while we are at it! I'm sure Legolas would go sprinting after her if he knows THAT."

He tapped his fingers on the keyboard and glanced at the screen. "Fine. Continue, then."

"Let's see..." She sighed and began pacing in the room. "...how about...I don't know..._'As a matter of fact...I don't expect to return'_ sort of thing?" Russel gave her a baffled look. "Hey!" she exclaimed defensively, "This is China we're talking about here!"

"No kidding," was his sarcastic reply. "I thought it was a war zone in Bosnia!"

"Oh shut up, Russel!"

"Sure...go on Madame Shakespeare! Insert a secret lover, if you will!"

The momentary silence made him glance over his shoulder in her direction. "You know...that's not such a bad idea," Anne murmured absent-mindedly.

He groaned and massaged his forehead. "I don't get it! Just when they parted and everything is fine...why exactly are we doing this again? AND at a price of certain murder once it is discovered?"

"Everything is FINE?!"

"Don't shriek, woman."

"Everything is NOT fine. Our mission is to MAKE it fine."

"Isn't it a bit strange that YOU feel up to something that a heroic warrior elf of thousands of years old seems to have failed?" Russel said with a sheepish expression.

Anne gave him a blank look. "No. Why?"

He sighed and decided to focus on the screen. "Just...go on."

"Fine," she said and began pacing again. "_'I feel as if I have let everyone down. Especially you, Anne'."_ She grinned broadly when he gave her a disbelieving look over his shoulder. "Just kidding. Ahem..._'I let everyone down...I feel ashamed. And lonely..._'" Her voice trailed as she came to stand beside Russel, gazing out the window. "_'I am going to visit a friend in __China__. I have apologies to make. He was one of the many victims of my foolishness..._'"

"Irulan really said that?" Russel intervened with a soft voice, looking up to her.

"She did, once," sighed Anne, meeting his eyes. "She loved him very much, you know."

There was a short silence. "She never talks about it. But...I think...I mean if it was me...I would be wary of this Legolas guy, no doubt!"

Anne turned to give him a sheepish look. "It wasn't his fault, I told you that."

"Well in a way it was," was the defensive reply.

"Look you dimwit – you don't understand elves."

"Oh and I assume YOU do!" Russel said, crossing his arms on his chest.

"I understand LOVE."

The true surprise on his face made her halt, too. The silence of a moment ago stretched on and became quite heavy as they stared at each other, neither blinking. "So do I," was his late whisper of a reply.

It was then that Anne thought that there was something really strange about Russel. Something...itchy. And if she could just put her finger on it...she might actually discover what it was! She narrowed her eyes, trying to shift her entire focus on the matter as she gazed down at him. Russel was an exceptionally handsome man. Always had been. And lately, he seemed to be taking more care of himself. "You look different, these days," she said slowly, her eyes gliding over his figure. "I see a change in taste as well...A girlfriend, Russel?" she grinned, meeting his surprised gaze.

He moaned in reply and massaged his face. "You know what...forget it! Just dictate the damn letter!" he growled, facing the screen again and shifting in his chair with unease.

Anne grinned broader, but decided to tackle the issue later. "Fine. Where were we? Oh yes...hmmmm...now all we need to do is to make it sound...desperate. Like she has lost all hope and is planning to...well...do...dangerous things!" she finished with triumph, waving her hands.

"Such as?" was the highly dubious question.

She shrugged, not meeting his gaze. "I don't know," she mumbled a moment later. "Like...I don't know...maybe...hurt herself?"

"Anne!"

"What?! I mean...she was depressed, that much is true!"

"But not suicidal!"

"Yes, well, we don't have to say the WORD..."

"Unbelievable!" he said in awe, just staring at her.

"Type, type!" she said, irritated at his stubbornness.

"How on earth will you make Haldir take part in this?" he said, a look of disbelief, amazement and confusion on his features.

"Leave that to me," was the sole reply.

"Believe me...I WILL!" was his as his fingers began to touch the keys once more.

* * *

Legolas looked at the paper in his hand without seeing it. All sense of time left him and he only managed to return to the present when Haldir cleared his throat. "When...did she leave?" he managed to say, to his own surprise. 

"The day after she...spoke with you," was the hesitant reply. Haldir watched him pale before his eyes. A part of him felt more than guilty to be torturing his friend like this. His lord! His captain! His comrade! But on the other hand Haldir saw easily enough what the other elf himself couldn't – Legolas and Irulan had to be together, period. Or else, both would detoriate and fall. He knew this beyond certainty. If he had to use less than honorable ways to get there...well...so be it! Not to mention that Anne had an unbelievable skill of persuasion. "Anyway...I need to get going. Anne and Russel should be waiting for me downstairs," he said to the dazed figure of the Prince. "I will let you know of the progress."

Legolas remained unmoving, his eyes glued to the paper in his hand. "I can...I can help," he said stiffly as Haldir had his hand on the doorknob.

"No need, my friend. You should stay and get better. Also...well there is Amanda."

Their eyes met again and it was a clash of wills. Haldir looked as if he dared Legolas to say something and Legolas stubbornly refused to give in to that beckoning. It went on for several moments and the Prince held his ground. Finally the other elf exhaled slowly and gave a final nod with his head. "Till we meet again," was all he said before he exited.

Legolas listened to his receding steps on the soft carpet of the hall. "Damn it all!" he hissed to himself, crumbling the paper in his hand and leaning his head on his fist. "Damn this world! When will I have my peace of mind?!"

'Ah but you HAD your peace of mind, dear Prince!' an amused voice sang in his head. 'The only peace of mind you ever had...and you buried it into the sands of Egypt."

"Well?" Anne said, taking off her sunglasses when Haldir arrived.

"Mission completed," the elf said in return, smiling one of his marvelous smiles.

She glanced over his shoulder to the hotel. "Are you sure?" was the dubious question.

"Absolutely," Haldir said with disinterest and nodded in agreement to the hotel personnel that asked him if he should fetch them a cab.

"We got company," Russel said with a low voice and both elf and woman turned to glance at the approaching Amanda.

"Hello," she said and it came out so sweet that Anne felt tempted to shiver. "Nice to see you again, Anne. Russel..."

Russel smiled a fake smile and nodded. Anne didn't bother to do that. "Hello Amanda. Heard you've been taking care of Legolas," she said, seeing no need to beat around the bush.

Amanda looked startled for a moment, but recovered fast. "Yes," she said, throwing nervous glances at the two men. "He was a bit ill."

She dug her hands into her jeans with discomfort when Anne proceeded to do her usual act – crossing her arms on her chest, cocking an eyebrow and looking at her down her nose. "How sweet of you," was the late, seething statement.

Amanda cleared her throat. "Are you...going somewhere?" she said and glanced at the backpacks standing at the side.

"China," Russel said. A cab stopped by them right then.

"Really?"

"If you must know, we go to find Irulan," Anne said dryly. The cabdriver opened the trunk and they began loading the bags.

"She is in China?"

"Not for long," came Legolas' voice right then. The trio froze and Haldir allowed himself a deft, secret smile before he turned to face the Prince who was striding towards them, looking nothing like he had in the past five days. If they were not too surprised to see him, they would have marveled at how fast a person can change. He had a pair of beige khaki pants and a black t-shirt underneath matching a light beige jacket on. His sunglasses were hiding his eyes but the general expression of his face spoke of determinism and fury at the same time. "Yes. Have it ready by tomorrow," he said into his cellphone, then turned it off and placed it into his jacket pocket.

"Heath," Haldir exhaled in mock frustration. "You really should be resting."

Legolas ignored him completely. He had no bag and didn't seem at a loss or nervous at all. He walked up to Amanda, who seemed even more confused than before and took off his sunglasses to gaze down at her. "Amanda," he said gently and took one of her hands between his. "I'm sorry. I really am. But I must go."

"Oh," she stammered a long moment later. "Oh...I....I understand. I...I can come, too!"

"WHAT?!" Anne exclaimed somewhere behind him but Legolas didn't give it heed, keeping his eyes on Amanda. Thankfully Anne got no further, because Russel elbowed her in the ribs with a meaningful glance.

"No," the Prince said gently, caressing her hand. "You must stay." He took a deep breath. "We must part this day."

Another moment of disbelieving staring. "But...but..." she issued a nervous laughter, blinking with confusion, "But you will come back, won't you?"

Legolas gave her a long look and folded his hands on hers. "I will return to you, Amanda," he said finally, his voice like velvet. "But I must help a friend. Forgive me."

Obviously Amanda didn't like that idea. "Heath..." she tried, but the words stuck in her throat.

"I know it's sudden. Believe me, it is sudden for me, too. It is unforgiveable for me to part from you this way...but I have no choice. I can only hope to make it up to you some day." After a moment, he leaned in to kiss her forehead. "Good-bye Amanda." When he turned to the others, the blankness of his face giving no clue to the conversation he had just moments ago. "Everyone, get in!" They just stared at him. "Now!" he commanded, opening the door and motioning Anne to proceed.

"But...we have no ticket for you," was all she managed to stammer.

"We're not going by some plane," he said dismissively. "I arranged a jet to take us."

"Look...Mr...Greenleaf," Russel chimed in, but was cut off by Legolas' icy stare. He halted and swallowed as the elf replaced the sunglasses on his eyes and the fact that his eyes were not visible underneath the dark glasses was even more irritating.

"I suppose you are the one I should be asking for permission, then."

"Eh...no..but..."

"Get IN!" Legolas seethed. It was enough for Russel, who glided into the car.

He was replaced by Haldir who came to hold the door and glance at Amanda, who remained rooted beyond words. "It was a pleasure to meet you," he said and his tone spoke of no pleasure at all. Other than the pleasure of leaving her behind like this. "Farewell."

Legolas closed the door and opened the one in the front. He, too, threw a look over his shoulder towards the woman. "Until later," he smiled tenderly before, too, he sat himself and closed the door. The cab took off, leaving a perplexed, stunned woman behind.

The remainder of the cab ride was silent and tense. Legolas spoke on his cell phone all the time, sometimes in English and sometimes what Anne and Russel guessed to be different Chinese dialects, arranging God knows what.

At the airport, instead of a commercial flight, a private jet was already awaiting their arrival. Anne and Russel glanced at each other, trailing behind as the two elves walked with calm composure to the steel bird. A grin bloomed on their faces before they proceeded to the stairs. Both elves halted and stepped back, allowing her to walk first. She grinned broader to that. One could get so used to men with manners!

Merely minutes later the jet took off and the quarted waited in silence as they left New York. "How long to China in this thing?" Anne said finally.

"14 hours or so," Legolas said absent-mindedly, glancing out the window.

"Look, Legolas," she sighed and he looked up at her, "I want to thank you. You really didn't have to come. But thank you for being so thoughtful."

He clenched his jaws and nodded in return. "How was she...in leaving?" was his cautious question.

Anne shrugged and let her gaze wander in the chamber. "She was upset, of course. But then...Irulan has been upset for a long time. She is hardly anything else these days."

"I'm sure she will be all right, Anne," he said finally, his tone gentle.

"I sure hope so. I mean...I want the old Irulan back. She seems so...fragile and tense now."

"We all change," was his late reply. "Into something we can't change back from."

"She can be very stubborn," Russel sighed, inspecting the ceiling.

"You know her pretty well, I guess," Legolas said suddenly, to everyone's surprise.

"Well..." Russel stammered, a bit caught off-guard, "...yeah?"

"May I ask how well?" the elf said after a moment of staring. It was his last intention to put his nose into the matter of Russel and Irulan once more, but the questions seemed to be slipping from his mouth.

"Well enough to know that she won't be giddy to see you again," Russel said. He received a poisonous glance from Anne for that but he was starting to get angry. Elf or not, this guy had a tendency to rub him the wrong way. And he disagreed with Anne on the matter – Irulan needed to get away from this guy. He was THE Legolas, for God's sake! What could a normal, mortal woman like Irulan do with someone of his calibre, anyway?

Surprisingly, Legolas' reaction was not furious. He tilted his head down and exhaled, inspecting his fingers for a long while. "Don't worry, Russel," he said finally. "My decision has not changed. I will only aid you in finding Irulan. Then...then I will return."

"To Amanda, I suppose?" Anne said with a flat tone.

This time Legolas looked up, his blue eyes locking on Anne's. She almost flinched at his stare, so loaded it was. A long moment passed while Anne swallowed softly and concentrated on the sole task of not looking away. "You are not Irulan," he said finally and the iciness in his voice made her swallow with discomfort. "Don't make me put you in your place, Anne."

"Sorry," was all she managed to say after a long while. "Sorry, Legolas. It's just that....I'm a bit concerned for her."

After another look without blinking, he nodded in acceptance of her apology before he spoke. "Perhaps she just needed a change?"

Anne, for a moment stupefied by his accurate guess, hesitated. Indeed...that was exactly what Irulan had said and why she had left. "I don't think so!" she managed to squeak finally.

"And why is that?"

"Well..." she glanced at Russel but the annoying man only crossed his arms on his chest and rose his eyebrows, awaiting her reply. That is, her LIE. "...Legolas you didn't see her when she left! She seemed...very strange. She cried through the whole packing...and she...was so upset! She said stupid things....like 'I hope I'll never return. Would be better for everyone if I didn't!' sort of things." That much was true. Irulan had truly been upset and had, no doubt, THOUGHT those things.

A long moment of silence issued. "I...spoke harshly," Legolas whispered finally, swallowing hard. "She called to apologize and I..." he turned to him, his clear blue eyes shimmering, "...I refused her. I rejected her."

"Legolas...there is no need to blame yourself for this." Haldir almost bit his own tongue at the gaze he received in reply to that. "You did what you thought best," he added with urgency to evade the Prince's wrath.

"Best for whom, Haldir?" was the seeting question.

"Best for everyone, my friend," the other elf said, stressing the words.

"I seem to be unable of wise decisions when it comes to her," was the tired reply.

"Legolas, no!" This time it was the Prince's turn to halt, astounded. "Don't tell me that you hold yourself responsible for Baeron! Neither are you responsible for her trip to China! Irulan is...." he sighed, waving her arm with a graceful arch. "...she is very young. And stubborn, no doubt."

"Yes, she is," Russel sighed once more.

"With you in the lead, we'll find her in a matter of days, you'll see!" Anne chirped, enthusiastic.

The Prince smiled and nodded in reply. "I hope so."

"Not to mention," Haldir smiled in amusement, "you are experienced in the art of tracking Irulan, my old friend."

* * *

"Listen to me...they went to China," Amanda hissed into the receiver. "Not damn Mars! What are you whimpering about?!" 

A sigh from the other end of the line. "What you don't know, Ms. Pearson, is that China is not too much different from Mars," was the final dry reply. "Actually it might be worse, if you ask me."

"I have no time for your bullshit," she said, walking across the hotel room to gaze out the window into the crowded New York street. "I want you to find her. And I want you to make sure that no one else ever does," she finished with a low voice.

Another sigh. The man knew that it was pointless to argue with her when she was this mad. "All right. I'll...I'll look into it."

"No!" she snapped. "You will not look into it! You will DO it, Mr. Grey!"

"Don't expect me to roll over any time you blow your whistle, Ms Pearson," was the hiss of a reply. "I said I'll look into it." She kept her silence, only breathing with fury and biting her lip. "Now...who is this Irulan woman?"

"Some stupid, useless woman!" Amanda said hotly, given the perfect oppurtunity to vomit her inner hatred. "She is of no importance."

"Then why such hatred?" came his amused voice.

Amanda took a deep breath to calm herself. "That is none of your concern," she chirped a moment later.

"You know that I won't take this sort of a job without knowing everything," the man said with a flat tone. "And I mean absolutely EVERYTHING."

"Fine," she exhaled in frustration. "The only person she matters to is Heath Greenleaf...and I intend to change that."

She could literally hear the man on the other end smile in amusement. "What do you know..." he drawled into the receiver, "Ms. Pearson has a heart."

"You watch your words," she said many moments later and it came out downright frosty. "If you can't keep a professional distance, maybe you are not the right person for the job."

"All right, all right!" was the defensive reply, though it still smelled of amusement. "All right. I dig it. He likes her and you like him. Nothing unique, trust me. It's the oldest story in the book."

"I want you to find her before them. And under no circumstances harm Heath," she continued, dismissing his words.

"It will take time," he said. "I need to gather information about her first. I don't even know this woman. I don't know where in China she is going, and neither do you. Last time I checked that was a damn big country to play guessing."

"Break into her apartment," Amanda said, turning away from the window and waving her hand dismissively. "No one is there. Her friends and a friend of Heath's has joined the search for her. I'll tell you everything in detail later on. Just...start as soon as possible!"

"Okay. As I have said...I'll look into it," he said and before Amanda could reply, turned off the phone.

She turned off hers with fury and stomped to sit in the armchair. Amanda sat there for almost an hour as the afternoon sun did a lazy stroll in the sky. "That damnable woman!" she thought. "Damnable, damnable, damnable woman!" Amanda was not used to being refused. Especially for another. But then...she wasn't used to falling in love, either. The last time she had actually liked someone –and him, she had only liked. Legolas, she (unfortunately) LOVED- had been years ago and the man had been her sister's fiance. Not for much longer, of course. Her sister never found out. No one did. That was her talent – to be discreet. To be silent and smooth.

"Why her?!" she whimpered into the silent room. "Why her, Heath? I was ready to be anything for you. ANYTHING!" She stood up, unable to suppress her feelings anymore, and began to pace the room, her fingers squeezing the phone in her hand. She didn't hate Heath for it. Oh no...he was a sentimental man. Obviously Irulan had affected him and twisted his heart so hard that he was unable to break out from her spell. Most men were like that. You had to pull them, then push them a little. You had to nudge them. "No problem," she said out loud again, continuing her pace. "I am ready to pull, push, nudge...AND terminate," she finished with a whisper. "I am ready indeed."

.

_Author's Note:_

_My Beloved Readers,_

_I have received very heartfelt and pained reviews concerning this chapter and the overall story. It fascinates me to see people making so much effort, but it is only honorable to return the favor. Therefore, I think it's useful at this point to explain myself in certain aspects:_

_My main problem is, that I do not have the space to portray everything the way I want to. This is not a novel, but a short fanfiction - though mine tend to border on the length of short novels. Nevertheless, I am limited by this fact and if I had the patience or the skill to write a novel, maybe I would do that instead of playing along with fanfic characters. So I am aware that all of these characters could be developed quite a bit and believe me, I DO like developed characters. But right at this point comes my own preferences - I don't like to develop characters through words. I like to develop them through actions. You may have noticed through my other work - especially the Irulans, that it is my very intention to start off simple and plain and have the character change and develop in time through his or her own choices. I think it's too easy to write about how someone feels or what they think all the time. Let them act and let us observe and interpret their actions. More work for the reader._

_What else? Oh yes, Amanda being cliche. The world is full with cliche people and I can not invent an original villain for every story. Baeron was very original because he had a black and white attribute that made him very difficult to hate and yet you could not like him because his actions were wrong. Amanda, on the other hand, IS cliche in the sense that she functions like 90% of the humans around us - based on greed, jealousy and instinct. Of course she doesn't love Legolas, but she loves herself and it is this reason that pushes her actions. Besides, I have no intentions of dwelling too much on her - she will play an important part in the story but she is not a character that will need to be developed too much. And I like her the way she is. She sounds complicated enough to me - she looked rather innocent in the beginning and I myself thought it was surprising of her to show this much violence later on._

_Legolas naive? My dear friends, it is my observation that no matter how long men live, they are children forever. I wouldn't know about elves but I'm assuming that the same is true for them. Legolas is not naive, but he is heartbroken and shattered and confused. It is easy for him to face battles and conflicts and political webs, but he is not used to facing matters where his emotions pull him with such mighty force. In that sense, he IS naive. He didn't have to deal with this sort of thing before. And after having tried all he could to win her back, he does what every other person would - he tries to move on. Maybe you and I know that he can't, but he himself does not know this. Or he doesn't want to believe it. In either case, he has no other options but to try. and he stubbornly pushes himself towards Amanda, though I think that it is obvious that his ardor towards Irulan is unmatched in her case._

_Why doesn't Anne tell the truth? Because she is built that way and she thinks that manipulating people will give better results. I'm not saying that time won't prove her otherwise or that she won't regret her actions. But the question 'why?' seems irrelevant at this point. Who knows? She is wired that way. People simply ARE a certain way and if everyone could see the world from the eyes of the readers of a book, there would be no conflict at all. In any case, Anne is making mistakes like every other character in this story and she will face the consequences along with the others._

_I think the main problem of many of my readers is the fact that they are -naturally- associating this one with FOTH. But like a director who does not want to repeat himself and therefore risks the wailing of fans when he makes a strikingly unique sequel, I have been expecting these kind of reviews when I decided to write a sequel and a very different one, in nature._

_I think you should give it time. When I look back at FOTH I see chapters full with smut and courting and still, in the end, it ended up as a story as something more than that. I think so will Pentimento. In fact, I will be bold enough to say that Pentimento will be far better than Fortress because it won't have that magical pink dust on it and will be far more realistic. It is developing more slowly and this time there is no hasty traveling with a gorgeous Legolas that could keep our fantasies alive, but such was my intention._

_Thank you for reading this far._

_Love,_

_Darma Druid_

.


	9. Under a Rain of Petals

_Thank you so much for the reviews! They are getting better and better by the day. I try to respond to as many as I can, though not all of you have granted me a reply address. The fluff of FATH is missing in this one, my friends. And you will see it disappearing more and more as the chapters keep coming. Oh there is love, don't worry, but this one is meant to be more realistic and a song of a different tune. _

_Theme song for the end part - Savatage, Believe (From Streets: A Rock Opera)_

* * *

Shanghai!

No other place could compare to the intrinsic, mystical atmosphere that this city emanated day and night. The best way to describe it would be 'full'. And full it was. With people. With color and light. With music, laughter, grim noises. With mystery and intrigue and a chaotic jumble of many other things.

Irulan walked through it, doing her best not to gape at the vitality of it. Shanghai was alive, like a beehive was alive. Certainly New York was crowded. But this crowd was a delirious one that had nothing to do with the businesslike cool crowd of her home city. This was the crowd of humans, mingling and separating like ants. Still, it took nothing from the beauty of the place. On the contrary - she thought it added to it immensely. It felt very intimate and though these were her loneliest days of her life ever -considering that she had cut the bond she held to Russel and Anne as well and was on a completely new and alien placed all by herself- Irulan felt the solitude receding as she walked through the masses.

The first day she was giddy with happiness. The happenings in New York had faded from her mind and she went about the business of being a tourist with a free and full heart. She had enrolled into one of the bigger and more touristic hotels, but refused their guide and instead, held on tight to her guidebook and took the chance to see the city herself.

It was fascinating. Simply breathtaking. From the serene atmosphere of the mausoleums to the frantic streets of the old section, from the massive bridges to the marketplaces she strolled, for the first time in many, many years feeling free and young. 'I know what Baeron must have felt,' she thought as she tried on an old fashioned straw hat, laughing along with the old man who was selling it. 'This incredible, vast country is at my feet. It is open, ready to be explored, ready to be conquered. No family. No friends. No obsessed lovers...' She smirked to herself, thinking of Legolas. Their last conversation still hung in her mind and it was enough to spoil her mood a little. She walked by a bunch of caged birds and lingered, gazing at the animals. 'I apologized,' she thought, once again starting the very conversation that she had had too many times on the plane to Shanghai. 'And he refused!'

True to her expectations, the other party in herself stirred and woke to that challenge. 'He was being kind. A decent man would have insulted you. Or better yet, boxed your ears a little.'

She sighed and moved on, releasing herself from the grip of the salesman. 'But what more could I have done? Should I have ran to his hotel and banged on his door? Especially while that Amanda woman was there!'

'Ah, yes!' was the amused reply. 'Amanda was there. The supportive, kind, ideal woman.'

A flush of anger came over her, but she refused to give in to it, unconsciously pushing her chin up. 'She is. Legolas deserves to be happy. And she is a better woman than me to-'

'Cut the crap,' was the dry intervention and for a moment Irulan halted, suddenly unsure if such a strange inner argument meant she should get some psychological help sometime soon. A woman danced before her, holding up an embroidered red dress, speaking in a language that seemed to be English, but was the strangest thing Irulan had heard. She waved her away with a smile and the Chinese woman glided away. 'Don't tell me you are not jealous.'

There it was again! The whole jealousy issue. 'I'm not jealous,' she snorted to herself, continuing her stroll.

'Right. But if you WERE, it would only be understandable. Anyone who is in love feels jealous.' Irulan thought about denying her feelings, but afraid to go into a dead end street, shut her mouth. 'At least you don't deny it anymore,' was the bored reply.

'I know that I'm in love with him,' she said with exasperation. 'But it's not enough. At least not for me.'

She walked and walked, lost in her own daze, before she finally came upon the place she was looking for.

"An American!" a voice cried just then with amusement, startling her out of her reverie. "Finally!"

Irulan threw a glance around her. There were more than enough tourists here that had a western look to them. She gave the guy an amused look. "Hardly the only one."

"But the loveliest one for sure," he said jumping from his seat on the bench.

Irulan chuckled and waited for him to stride to her. "John Cosgrove," he said, extending his hand.

"Irulan," she said simply.

"Great. Now I have the loveliest American with the loveliest name!" he mused, shaking her hand firmly, then turning it over to give it a kiss.

"Oh stop!" Irulan said and took her hand back. She sighed and glanced at the temple under the heated summer sun. "The Jade Temple," she said, wiping the sweat off her face.

"Yep," he said, turning towards the structure as well. "Amazing place." He gave her a sidelong glance. "First time?" She nodded and he grinned. "Want a tour guide?"

Irulan raised her eyebrows in an amused manner. "Look...let's get this straight. I'm from New York. So I know that nothing in life is free. What will be the price of this tour?"

"For you, to spend time in the company of an irritating and lonely man," he sighed, beckoning her to follow. "For me, the company of a lovely creature who speaks an understandable English accent."

She rolled her eyes, but could not help from laughing as he gently nudged her on and they entered the temple. John proved to be a really good guide, after all and he was sweet enough for Irulan too overlook the flirting he so adamantly tried to do with her. She figured he probably did this on every female tourist he saw out here. He was charming but thankfully not as shallow as those kind of people usually were. On the contrary – during their tour –which seemed to get longer and longer and finally covered four separate touristic spotlights in the region- she found some of his responses and arguments rather intellectual and deep.

So it wasn't unusual when she found herself sitting in a cheesy bar with him in the later hours of the day. "Look," she sighed for the fifth time, "you are incredibly charming, but I'm not interested in a relationship right now."

He gave her a wide grin that spoke of the alcohol content in his body. "Who is talking about a relationship? We could comfort each other."

Irulan gave him a sheepish look. "I don't believe in that sort of comfort. And even if I did, I'm not desperate, thank you."

"Hell, if you refuse ME," he protested with a squeak, "it can only mean one thing!" Irulan waited with raised eyebrows. "That you already have a hunk of a guy!" She exhaled in frustration and took another sip from her beer. "Though why he isn't here with you..." he added, grinning again, "...is a matter of..."

"None of your business," she finished for him.

"So?" he said after a short silence, "Am I right?"

"You are nosy, that's what you are."

"Aw come on! We are sitting in a crappy bar in Shanghai and will probably never see each other again. You can tell me."

"There's nothing to tell." John looked at him for so long that Irulan again rolled her eyes and added "Anymore."

"Ah," he said, trying to sit up straighter. "So there WAS something to tell!"

"John," she exhaled and took a look at her watch. "it's getting late and..."

"I toured with you all day, didn't I?!" he exclaimed with what Irulan would call a wail. She halted, startled by his reaction. "I ask one small conversation and you want to run off to your hotel like Cinderella!"

"Well but..." He waved his hand in a clumsy manner as if to say that he was hurt and would listen no further. She suppressed a smile at how drunk he was. 'Well, he won't remember in the morning anyway,' she thought then and sighed loudly in mock frustration. "All right, for God's sake! There WAS someone."

"Was he handsome?" he said immediately, turning his attention back to her.

"Oh yes," she chuckled, taking another sip from her bottle. "Very much so."

"Rich?"

She smiled in a mysterious fashion. "Fairly."

"Let me guess...he was infinitely stupid."

"Not at all. He was the smartest man I have ever met."

"He turned out to be married."

Irulan laughed. "No."

"He was like...85?

To that she had nothing to say and only shook her head. "His age was not a matter at all."

John hesitated, his eyes glazing over as he thought of other reasons. "He was...a drug dealer of some sort." Before Irulan could answer, he said "No wait...that's not a bad thing." He grinned at her frosty expression. "He cheated on you?"

Irulan sighed and thought for a moment. "No. Nothing like that. He was...too dominating."

John blinked. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Well...I don't know anymore," she mumbled, massaging her forehead. "I thought about it so often, I think I've got the facts all mixed up."

"Did he love you?" was the late question.

"He did," she said softly. In her mind, she recalled the early morning hours of their night together at his castle, just before the day of the Council meeting. The passion they had experienced after the Sharing had left both of them breathless and unable to move a single muscle. So they had remained, lying in each other's arms, facing each other. Irulan had been falling asleep, then returning to consciousness which brought incredible joy of being in the arms of the man she loved. "I love you," he had whispered sometime during her short conscious phases. "I shall move the world for you, Irulan." Irulan had felt his fingers on her skin, gliding up and down and she had inhaled his scent. 'Maybe this is all that happiness is about,' she had thought somewhere in her mind.

She woke from her reverie when John banged his fist on the counter, making her jump.

"I want his name and address!" He grinned at her bafflement. "You think he would be interested in me?"

Irulan laughed then, spraying some of the beer in her mouth on John. She apologized profusely after that and attempted to wipe it off his face. He tried to wave off her efforts, resembling her to a "friggin camel" and she almost fell off her stool at that. He mumbled all the way to her hotel and pushed up his chin, looking away with a dramatic expression when she tried to kiss him on the cheek. "I'm sorry," she laughed, not caring at the curious and rather disapproving looks she was getting from the other residents of the hotel. "I'll buy you breakfast tomorrow!"

He seemed reluctant but she knew that he was more than happy to be chased after like that. "I want dinner, then," he said, scratching his neck.

"I am planning to leave Shanghai by tomorrow night," she sighed, taking off her straw hat to comb her hand through her hair.

"So soon?" he seemed genuinely baffled. "But Shanghai is not a city to be seen in a single day!"

"Well...I sort of have a destination," she mumbled.

"Where to?" Irulan gave him a sidelong glance. Even though she wasn't very sober, she felt uncomfortable about giving away her destination to the inner and more secluded parts of China to a man she didn't fully trust. After all, he knew her to be alone and knowing this place he could actually... She looked away, not certain how to refuse him when he pressed on. "One more day? Come on!"

She chuckled at the wail he released. "I don't know. Depends."

"Depends on what?"

"Depends on if you behave or not," she said, waving her finger below his nose.

"ME?! I am not the one spitting others in the face, Madame."

"Oh for the love of God! I didn't..."

"Whatever," he waved, then grinned at her. "I'll pick you up tomorrow morning. At...11?"

"Fine," she grinned back.

"Unless," he drawled, "I mean...if we wake up together, I won't have to come to pick you up...and that would save us some time you know..."

"Good night, John," she said, then turned on her heels and walked up the stairs to the hotel. 'This is wonderful,' she thought to herself as she walked to the elevator. 'I love this journey! This must be true freedom!' She pressed the button to her floor, convinced that she was about to have the most amazing time of her life in China.

It would take here only a few days to discover that she couldn't have been more wrong in her assumptions.

* * *

'You still love her,' a voice said in his head. 'She insulted you. Refused you. Belittled you...and you STILL love her!'

Legolas groaned and looked out the window of the jet. 'What curse is this?' he thought. 'All my honor. All my caution until now for nothing. One woman managed to tear it all down into nothing!'

'And yet...you love her still,' was the amused reply.

He sighed. How could he deny that? Every time Amanda touched him, it felt wrong and it only served to remind him of what he would never have again – Irulan's touch.

Contrary to everyone's belief, Legolas had no intention of diving into a relationship with Amanda right away. For one thing, he felt nothing for her. Before, the genuine liking he held towards her now would have probably ended in an affair and he would have shared a few months or maybe even years with a woman like Amanda. Now, though, after Irulan had blown like a hurricane through his life and changed his whole view on love and passion, the blonde woman seemed only a washed-out replacement for what he wanted in his life. Before, he would have appreciated her gentleness and patience enough to give her a place in his life – at least for a while. Now, though, it would mean fooling not only her, but also himself.

And yet, she seemed the only and perhaps perfect solution to get over Irulan. If there ever was such a thing as getting over your true love. Legolas had thought about this during the nights he had been unable to rest due to that sizzling sickness. He had turned on his bed and watched the ceiling, his inner turmoil silent and agonizing. The idea that he would be betraying Amanda by pretending that she was his genuine love had occurred to him. But he had soon enough come to the conclusion that he would not pretend such a thing to her, anyway. Amanda knew about Irulan and she knew about his feelings for her – at least to some extend. Of course he would never bring it up –though she might, in the upcoming years, to blame him for not loving her as much as he had loved Irulan- but at least it was a known fact to her now.

Also, Legolas was not inexperienced when it came to affairs. He knew well enough how to woe and cherish a woman. He knew how to respect her and how to nurture her with anything she might need. He had had, after all, many relationships before Irulan had shown up and they had all been very pleasant for the other party. He knew that love was not essential to keep an affair like that and he knew without a doubt that he could make Amanda happy if he chose to do so. At least for a while. But could he make himself happy? That was the question, the real problem, that he had faced in those silent nights. 'I can make myself content,' he had told himself, and it seemed to be the only thing that was in his power. He would have a patient, attractive, supportive woman by his side and how many people in the world had more, anyway? Wasn't that what happiness was, in the very end?

He sighed, listening to the deft music in the jet and the humming of the engines. No...that was not what happiness was. Happiness was a combination of all he had savored during the few days he had had with Irulan. Irulan, who knew his real identity and yet, was neither afraid, nor mesmerized by it. Irulan, who had listened to his past and had, for the first time in his life, invoked the urge in him to tell about that past. Irulan, for whom he felt an attraction that seemed simply foolish in its intensity. Yes...she meant happiness.

And yet, she meant also pain, loss and grief. Amanda would never have the power to render him so small, so in need of someone. No matter what she did, she would never be able to hurt Legolas with more than the minor, common heartache that was natural in all affairs and usually followed a disagreement, argument or conclusion. He simply didn't love her enough to feel more than disappointment or sadness about anything that could go wrong between them. Irulan, on the other hand, had refused to hold his hand in Rome and never would he forget how frustrated he had felt at that moment. She had praised Baeron and it had been enough to wake incredible jealousy in him. She had ran away from him and the panic of a possible loss had clouded his mind to such extend that he had ended up being the reason for the death of one of his oldest friends. A tempest she was – not the safe haven that Amanda promised to be.

And he wanted to be in the tempest, damned be it all! All the time he had admired and envied Aragorn and Arwen, apparently Legolas had failed to see that such a great thing would also demand great sacrifices. He had looked upon them with longing and he had not realized that what that couple had managed to build, was the end result of a long and painful process for both of them. Now, after having been granted to taste the very same love himself, he was left with the bill and all his fortune was not enough to pay a price so high.

"What are you thinking about?" Haldir said and approached to sink into the seat next to the Prince.

Legolas groaned and massaged his face. "I'm thinking that I want Sauron back." He gave the perplexed elf a look. "Things were simpler when he was around."

Haldir chuckled to that. "Ah, the good old days! When you could solve a problem by a simple strike of your sword!" Legolas groaned again in approval. "Things have gotten really complicated ever since, haven't they?"

"Too complicated," the Prince murmured. "I may be getting too old for this, Haldir."

Haldir grinned. "Nonsense. That would make me ancient and well...I refuse that definition." A short moment passed between them and they both glanced at Anne and Russel, who had fallen asleep. Haldir grinned, listening to Anne's slight snoring. "Fascinating," he said slowly. "No wonder that humans took our place in this world. They are incredible creatures." Legolas shook his head with irritation. "You still don't like them, I see."

"I serve them," was the late reply. "I rule them. I save them. I protect them. But no, I don't particularly like them." He waited before he added. "Especially these days."

"May I speak freely, my Lord?" Legolas gave the other elf a surprised look before he nodded in approval.

"I think," began Haldir tentatively, "before we blame humans for their 'flaws', we should maybe blame ourselves for still not being efficient enough to handle and oversee those flaws."

"Oh, I see where this is going," was the dry reply. "It was me who made all the mistakes."

Haldir sighed. This was going to be difficult. "No doubt that she has made many. But we are the older kind." Haldir hesitated for a moment. "We are the wiser kind."

"Apparently not." Haldir remained silent to that. "Why am I on this plane?" he exhaled.

"You made the right choice, that's why."

Legolas smirked. "The more I think about it, the more it seems wrong."

"What does?" was the surprised question.

The other's brows furrowed as the gazed to the sleeping duo again. "Us chasing her like this." He received a long look from Haldir and decided to explain. "I am beginning to think that the more I chase Irulan, the further she falls." He gave it a moment. "Last autumn Irulan ran from ME, Haldir. And she ran TO Baeron."

Haldir gave him an unreadable look. "You know very well that Irulan did not mean to..."

"I know that she did not run to Baeron out of passion or love," Legolas sighed in frustration, making a small graceful, dismissive arch with his left arm. "But she ran, nevertheless. I have thought about that many times." His voice drifted a little and he halted. "When we spoke on the phone, she had told me that she needed time. That she would return if she were given that time. I think she might have been right."

Haldir's expression became a frosty dryness. "Lord Legolas," he began with a tense tone, "with all due respect....you think it would have been wiser to leave Irulan at Baeron's care?" He received no answer. "You know very well that he would have taken her!" was the hot addition of a hiss.

A long moment passed and they sat listening to the humming engines. "Like I have taken Bentanta from him?" Legolas murmured finally and rose his head to look Haldir in the eye.

It took a moment for Haldir to overcome the shock of his words. "You have not taken Bentanta," he said, heavy disbelief in his voice. "She came to YOU. She chose YOU."

"You mean like Irulan chose Baeron," was the calm reply.

It made Haldir surprisingly furious. "No!"

Legolas made another dismissive motion, showing his unwillingness to convince. "It would have been only fair, is all I'm saying."

He locked eyes with a seething Haldir. "What nonsense is this? You know well enough that digging up past regrets accomplishes nothing, Legolas. We have too many of those to recall and never enough time to make up for them." Legolas' silence made him continue, his tone eager to convince. "What Baeron did was wrong. He sought to assist Irulan, no doubt, but you can't turn him into a saint, assuming that he had no selfish motivations in this deed at all."

"Maybe so," Legolas said, his voice firm. "But the truth remains – Irulan ran because I chased her. And what exactly am I doing now, Haldir?"

"So you would leave her to her fate?"

"No," Legolas exclaimed in frustration. Again he looked at Russel and he turned down his gaze before his imagination could run wild and offer him intimate poses of the man and Irulan. "I am here to help. But...this must end, Haldir. It MUST."

"What must end?" was the dry question.

"This! Me overpowering Irulan. Me taking her choices from her."

"You were entrusted with the guidance of her kind," Haldir said, now more than eager to convince the Prince. "And I assume that includes Irulan."

"With the guidance, yes. But not with oppression on such personal level."

"Oppression?!" was the disbelieving exclamation and made Legolas turn his head to take a look at the frustrated elf. "It is called ASSISTANCE."

Legolas' eyebrows rose in surprise. "Since when?"

Haldir groaned and looked ahead. "The choices you made were the right ones. I would have done the same, in your stead. And so would have Aragorn."

Legolas blinked, startled. "That was a low blow," he said finally, no amusement in his tone.

Haldir's gaze was piercing when he locked eyes with him again. "It was no blow, but merely the truth."

"How can you speak like that?" Legolas said, now growing angry. He did not like discussing Aragorn and Haldir knew of this. And if he liked anything less than that, it was the speculation of whether Aragorn's actions were justified or not. The admiration and love he felt for his friend was perhaps too strong for the taste of others, but Legolas refused to change that, no matter how many millennia had passed.

"Forgive me, Legolas," Haldir said coldly, "I intend no disrespect. But I think that your dedication to Aragorn makes it hard for you to see the whole truth to him." Legolas clenched his jaws, feeling anger slowly simmer inside him before the Marchwarden chose to continue with a deeper and slower tone. "Aragorn TOOK Arwen," he said, his crystal eyes unflinching under the furious gaze of the other elf.

"It was not against her wish," Legolas spat.

"Of course not," was the calm reply. "But he took her, nevertheless. Knowing that it would part her from her kin. Knowing that it would bind her to him forever. That it would mean a death in agony for her after his passing."

Legolas' hand dropped and the gaze he gave the other elf cut the Marchwarden short. He swallowed, speechless at the flames dancing in the Prince's eyes. "Arwen was happy every single day of her life with him," he hissed at Haldir, an intense surge of protection running through him.

Haldir gave him a long, calm look. So long that the Prince clenched his jaws and leaned back, clearing the space between them again. "Precisely my point," the Marchwarden said finally.

Legolas remained utterly baffled. Haldir's words ran through him and echoed inside, turning him upside down. He was right. And yet, he was wrong. Irulan was right. 'No,' sighed a voice in him. 'She is wrong.' He gazed into the other elf's eyes, reading nothing but sympathy and a cold decisiveness. 'You are wrong,' he said in his mind, trying to convince himself. And yet, he could not overcome the feeling that his words had a certain logic to them. "Irulan is not Arwen," he said finally, unable to come up with anything else.

Haldir's eyebrows rose, almost in amusement. "I noticed." He exhaled in relief when he realized that the fury that he had woken in the Prince had begun to tune down, thanks to his surprise. "Legolas," he tried again, a bit more tentative. "She obviously needs our help. We should aid her in this time of need. If for nothing else, then for our debt to the great King." Legolas pursed his lips and did not speak. Haldir sighed deftly. "After that, you both can go your own ways."

"I don't think Irulan will appreciate my 'assistance'," was the other's late and cold reply.

Haldir leaned back in his seat. "I imagine that she will be angry at first. But if we can make you two become friends..."

"Haldir," the Prince cut in with amazement, "your imagination is running wild today. First this trip to China. YOU!" He watched the Marchwarden shift with discomfort. "I thought you would not return there for at least a few hundred years." Haldir clenched his jaws and focused on Anne who was snoring louder now. "Do you think we will need aid from our old friends there?" he said, not without amusement.

"I hope not," was the stiff reply.

"Why have you not contacted anyone from the Circle to ask for aid?" Legolas mused. "Irulan has been gone for two days. I would have expected you to have tracked her down by now."

"I didn't think that we should drag the Circle into this," Haldir said sheepishly. "It is a private matter. It seemed inappropriate to ask the aid of the Circle."

Legolas' eyebrows rose. "Very wise of you, my friend," he said and Haldir wasn't sure if he was sarcastic or serious.

The Lothlorien elf rose to his feet, the wish to console Legolas having evaded him for good, and mumbled an excuse before he strode away. 'So much for consoling,' he though, feeling the amused glance of the Prince on his back. 'Some elves simply deserve to suffer!'

* * *

Saiko was sitting alone in the elaborate Japanese garden and as always, she was not surprised when Legolas appeared right beside her. His shadow fell on her and she merely smiled ever so slightly. "Again, I failed to startle you," he said and moved to sit opposite from her. She said nothing, but slightly bowed on her kneeling position, then sat up again. Legolas remained, watching her settle back to her former pose. Her long, pitch black hair was pinned on her head as was the Japanese custom and her pale face reflected nothing but perfection. He sat, inspecting her immaculate features, her flawless skin, her perfect posture. His eyes glided over her blue on blue gown with embroidered golden flowers, her small and white hands, folded on her lap. He had often thought that if every other proof failed, Saiko alone would have been evidence that the Gods DID exist - how could such a creature come into being by the mere chain of coincidence and evolution? No. She could only have been carved by divine powers, no doubt.

As always, she didn't look into his eyes, but at someplace over his shoulder. He sighed and inhaled the clean atmosphere of the Japanese garden. The cherry trees were in bloom and his eyes wandered up to the one they were sitting beneath. The scent of the plant was incredible and was washing down on them as the petals were raining on their heads due to the slight breeze.

"Saiko," he said, slowly, enjoying the sound of her name, "I must go."

She said nothing for a while. "Will you return?" was her late question. Her voice was soft and clear, almost childish.

"I don't know," he said, his eyes still on the pink flowers that were sailing down on them. A silence set in between them and Legolas hesitated only for a moment before he reached out and picked a pink petal from her blue black hair. Saiko did not move but she looked him in the eye and for a moment his hand lingered, then retrieved. He swallowed, feeling pinned down by her slanted eyes and her black orbs. "Would you want me to?" he whispered finally, gliding his fingers over the soft texture of the flower and imagining that Saiko's skin would probably feel very much like that.

The woman smiled one of her very subtle smiles and once again gazed towards the hills. "Such a thing wouldn't be wise," was her late and soft reply.

Legolas said nothing. In the six years he had spent in her presence, Saiko had been as reserved as she had been on day one. 'Six years' he thought, watching the petals dance around them. 'Filled with nothing but agony for the woman I can not have. For the woman who would never give herself to me.' He glanced down at the flower in his hand and the breeze brought the scent of the cherry flower to him. "I care nothing for wisdom," he whispered. She would be listening, of course, but for the moment that seemed not important. "If you asked me to stay, I would, Saiko."

"Hiroyuki-san," came her clear voice. "If you stayed, you would stay for nothing more than what we have now - this very moment." She found his eyes again. "You would stay for a conversation in a late spring garden. I fear that this is not what you deserve."

"Nevertheless, I would stay."

She gave him a long look. "Then I would have you go," she said finally.

Legolas took a deep breath and smiled ruefully. Of course that would be her answer! "Maybe if you had no master..." he began, feeling foolish and silly.

"But I do," Saiko said.

He hesitated. "Maybe," he said then, his blue gaze deep and penetrating, "If we were in another time, in another place..."

"But we are here and now," was her slow comment.

Legolas had felt then the helplessness he had often felt in the presence of mortals. Here it was - time. Flowing beneath his fingertips. Unstoppable. Ethereal. Deadly. He gazed at Saiko and forever he would remember her like she was at that moment - her face bearing a gravity that seemed unnatural for her youth. The pink and white petals whirling around her. A single strand of hair loose from the pins on her head, waving like a tiny black flag. The infatuation he was feeling for her bloomed in him so fervently that he felt the need to inhale deeply and divert his gaze down to his hands that were resting in the placid Japanese manner on his knees. The breeze swept by them, none spoke. Time ticked by, and he accepted it like he had come to accept everything else. It took him more than half an hour to bring himself to get up, slightly bow to Saiko, then turn on his heels and stride away. She sat through it with utter patience and slightly bowed in return as he rose to his feet.

It was the last time he would see her. A few months after his leaving one of the dominating clans in Japan would rush into her master's house and slaughter everyone inside. Legolas would find out later that both her master and Saiko would choose to impale themselves on their own blades rather than fall prisoners. The remaining part of his life would be dotted with inner turmoil and arguments whether he should have stayed and if it would have made any difference.

He sighed, letting the droning of the plane engines return to his senses. The image of the pale beauty of Saiko sitting under a pink rain floated up to him. Back then he had thought he had felt for her what Men and Elves were cursed to seek forever - love.

But the Gods were not kind enough to bless him with the love of a kind woman like Saiko. Oh, no! They had another in mind - a woman who was almost the complete opposite of the Japanese girl he had met hundreds of years ago. While Saiko was cool, submissive water, Irulan would prove to be a blazing hot bundle of a creature who would challenge everything and anything that lay on her path. Saiko had dedicated her life to a single man and was happy to serve him in any manner that seemed fitting. Irulan had turned her back to the seat at the Circle that would have given her the opportunity to serve all humankind. Legolas smiled deftly, trying to imagine Irulan in Saiko's position. Instead of singing ballads to her master at nights with her sweet voice, Irulan would probably smash the instrument on his head. There was really nothing graceful or even feminine about her.

And yet...she possessed a spirit that Saiko would never even come close to grasping. Legolas had seen the same spirit in some other humans - but often it was driven by greed or ego. What was unique to Irulan was that she cared nothing for those kind of base human motivations. He knew that Irulan would swallow galaxies if she was offered the chance, but it wouldn't be to gain any kind of power over anyone. She simply wasn't wired.

A picture of Irulan in Saiko's light blue kimono and large, peach sash came to his mind. She sat with the same placid pose and the tree shook above her in the same manner. Her hair was tied up in the same fashion and likewise, a strand stood loose. Irulan had nothing of the beauty that Saiko had possessed, but that didn't make the excitement that coursed through Legolas any less. She looked up at him, her brown eyes soaked in a self-confidence that would look alien on Saiko. And yet, he knew that Irulan was far more fragile a woman than the Japanese beauty had been. It intrigued him that both looked so different on the surface and were something entirely else underneath it.

"Irulan," he said in his mind, "I must come to you."

She said nothing for a moment, then turned to look around the large garden that reflected perfect symmetry and soft angles merging with sharper ones. She squinted her eyes, as if to look into the distance. "What is this tie that binds you to me and drags you halfway across the globe against your wish?" was her final question. Her voice didn't hold the sweet sound that Saiko's did. But he preferred hearing it over anyone else's.

Legolas sighed and looked down. He was still holding the pale blossom in his palm. He closed his fingers on it as the scent of the cherry tree washed over him. "The same thing that makes you run from me halfway across the globe," he said finally and locked eyes with her.

Irulan frowned for a short moment, then smiled. It was one of her sad, reluctant smiles and had always woken in him the desire to kiss it away. His eyes lingered on her lips, then found her eyes again while the forced the need away. "Tell me," she sighed and looked up to the cherry tree, her eyelids fluttering as the petals waltzed down on her and settled on her hair and her shoulders, "have you ever seen as greedy, uncaring, selfish creatures as the both of us, Legolas?" She fixed his gaze once more and continued. "No matter what the price, we dare not end this battle we have brought upon ourselves. Ready to burn the entire world, if need be. Ready to burn ourselves in it." He didn't answer and she clenched her jaws, directing her eyes onto her own hands, folded in a similar fashion in her own lap. "My rage frightens me," she added almost with a whisper and he was surprised to hear the true fear in her tone. "As does my youth, my wild mood swings, my unpredictable agony."

Legolas thought of reaching out and holding her hand in a soothing manner. But afraid that she would draw hers back, he resisted the urge. "Those things in your nature frighten me, too," he said finally, half-amused. The atmosphere did not grow as light as he wished it would. "But they also draw me to you. I would not change a single thing about you, Irulan," was his more serious addition.

She smirked and ripped off a few grass stems - something Saiko would have never done. He watched her restlessness. "But you DO, Legolas," she exhaled, somewhat frustrated. "You want me to be a...a...woman." He looked up, surprised and she gave him a sheepish glance. "I don't know how to be that." A blush crept up her face and she turned away, showing him only her profile. "I know how to be a warrior. All my life all I did was to fight, to strive, to aspire, to try. Now here I am, and..." she lifted up her arms as if to show him her kimono, "...and you want me to be this. This...woman!"

Legolas gave her a long look. It seemed so simple and yet, so complicated. Could it be true that underneath all her brazen self-confidence, her might of a warrior, her stubborn pride, Irulan was merely a little girl, afraid of the unknown? Afraid of a commitment with the man that Legolas was? At the moment, she did indeed seem awfully frightened and lost and though Irulan could look like that and become a dangerous lioness in the blink of an eye afterwards, he could not help his hand from reaching out and his fingers touching her cheek. She turned to him, startled. "I, too, have been nothing but a warrior so far," he sighed. His voice seemed distant - like the voice of a stranger. The incense of the tree above them was intoxicating and filled his lungs with sweetness. "I have no clue how to be a man."

True enough, though Legolas had had commitments, they were fairly short-lived (for someone of his lifetime, anyway) and not true commitments of the heart. It would be a pathetic lie to deny that the idea of offering his heart to someone didn't wake fear in him.

"I would never be as patient and supportive as Saiko," Irulan said, leaning her head on his hand and he opened his palm, cupping her cheek.

"I would not want you to be," he whispered, suddenly not sure if this was merely daydreaming or a true vision.

"Neither would I adore you like Bentanta did."

He swallowed, pained by her mentioning that name and stuffed the idea of Baeron and the disaster in Egypt, away. "I seek no adoration," he managed a moment later.

Irulan, who had been watching him with those deep, brown eyes waited. "But," she said finally, "I can love you more than any of them ever did, Legolas." Her voice was almost inhuman in it's softness. "That power and privilege is reserved to me and me alone."

Legolas halted. 'Am I dreaming?' he thought, baffled. Elves did not dream in the manner that humans did, and such realistic experiences were often named 'visions' rather than the meaningless jumble of images that mortals called 'dreams'. 'Is it the sickness?' He remained perfectly still, indecisive if he should try to wake from whatever this was, or if he should enjoy and cherish the moment. It was, after all, incredibly pleasurable. He looked back at Irulan and felt the surge of hope that had come over him with her last words bloom in his chest, again. "Please," he whispered, his heart hammering, his brain pulsing. "Please do so."

Irulan smiled again and her hand came up to cup his as it still stood against her cheek. "I want to," she sighed and suddenly looked very sad. "But I can't, Legolas."

He inched closer to her. "Why?" was his urgent whisper of desperation.

Irulan locked eyes with him then and suddenly the warm breeze of the spring around them didn't feel warm at all. Legolas swallowed again and felt the urge to wake up boiling in him once more. And still, he resisted, frozen in anticipation of what was to come. "You should know," she said, her expression unreadable. "It was you who killed me, Legolas."

For several seconds he didn't understand her meaning at all. The idea that she meant his last harsh words to her appeared to him but as soon as he thought of that option, he knew that she did not mean that. "How..."

"It is all right," Irulan said and smiled broader. Legolas' eyes fell to her chest as a red stain appeared on the blue folders of her kimono. It spread there like a small, angry cloud. The shock sent a bolt of electricity through him and he flinched, suddenly convinced that this was neither dream nor vision. There had been very few occasions that had deemed Legolas speechless and unable to move in real life. This felt very much like one of them. "It is all right," Irulan said again, her tone eager to persuade. "I shall love you anyway, Legolas."

Legolas jerked out of his dream and his seat so abruptly that he stumbled and found himself kneeling on the floor. Confused and unable to drag himself out of his shock, he tried to grab the seat and rise, but failed because his arms and his legs seemed to be trembling. He would have been embarrassed at his clumsiness if he wasn't as dazed and afraid as he was. He felt Haldir's strong grasp lifting him and placing him into the seat again right before the elf's face appeared before his, deep worry etched in his usually serene expression. "Legolas!" he hissed, "Legolas! What happened!?"

He tried to speak and found himself unable to do that as well. Finally he managed to wave his hand as if asking for a few moments. His friend understood and waited it out, rather impatient but wise enough to hold back. He glanced over his shoulder and was glad to notice that both Anne and Russel still seemed soundly asleep. When he turned back to Legolas, the Prince seemed better, but not less afraid. "What happened?" he urged again, his voice low and cautious.

"I had a vision, Haldir!" Legolas hissed suddenly, grasping his arm with such strength that Haldir –even though he was an elf- felt distinctive pain. "Gods!" Legolas said, his eyes widening with the recollection of it.

He tried to stand up and failed because Haldir pressed him down. "Tell me what you saw, my Lord."

"I saw Irulan," Legolas whispered, his face incredibly pale. He locked eyes with Haldir and the Marchwarden was stunned by the expression in the blue orbs. "She will...I think she will..."

He didn't speak on and Haldir had to shake his shoulders to gain his attention again. Legolas seemed unable to break free from whatever vision he had witnessed and this, more than anything else, frightened him immensely. "What did you see?" he hissed, squeezing his friend's shoulder.

"Irulan will die," Legolas said then, his voice broken and desperate. "Irulan will die," he whispered again.

Haldir remained stunned for a long moment. 'Impossible,' he thought. It was simply impossible. Why would Irulan die? She was merely on a trip to China and the Prince was overreacting to the dark scenario they had offered him. A sudden stab of guilt traveled through him at the thought of the forged letter and he instantly decided to tell Legolas right there and then that there was nothing to worry about. But one look down at the other elf changed his mind immediately. Legolas' state showed without a doubt that this had been a true and very realistic vision and Haldir, as all other elves, knew better than to ignore those. His words came to him with a different meaning, then, and he felt himself sinking into the seat beside the Prince, his hand still grasping the shoulder of the other. "But...impossible, Legolas," he managed finally, though his words were pure stupidity and he was very aware of that. "How could that be..."

"I don't know how!" Legolas exclaimed with frustration. Haldir glanced at Anne, but she merely turned on her other side and continued snoring. "But I saw it!"

"My friend," the Marchwarden said with a shaky voice a moment later, "perhaps it is the sickness?"

Legolas hesitated. The fear and desperation pulsing in his veins made it very, very hard to think, but he tried with all his might to push the background noise of panic into the background. Could it be the sickness? Such a state was highly unusual for elves and no one really knew what it could bring. 'Perhaps I am having a fever,' he thought, and instinctively placed his palm on his forehead. It didn't bring any revelation at all, but that didn't dismiss the idea completely. Sickness and fever did cause such nightmares in humans, so why not in elves?

And yet...he shivered, thinking of how the petals had fallen on Irulan's head and how her eyes were embedded in pain. It had been so real! He turned to Haldir, who seemed more sick than himself, at the moment. "Could it be the sickness?" he whispered.

Haldir took a deep breath. "I think...I mean...why not?"

Legolas thought it over for a few minutes, then seemed to relax a little. "It could be," he said, his voice not a whisper anymore. "I have never been sick before."

Haldir nodded eagerly. "And perhaps her note might have left the residue of such a feeling in you. So you slept and you dreamt that..."

Legolas slowly shook his head, silencing the other elf. "It was no dream," he said finally, locking eyes with Haldir again. He pursed his lips and gazed out the window. In an hour they would be in Shanghai. This would be the longest hour in his life, by the looks of it. "But...perhaps I saw this vision in some metaphorical sense?"

"Of course!" Haldir said and his eyes twinkled. He shifted a little, turning to the Prince completely. "You didn't part well. That and the note and the illness..." he let his voice trail, annoyed at how fake it all sounded. "I'm sure Irulan is fine, Legolas," he said finally. He didn't want to talk any further.

The Prince looked at him and for a moment Haldir thought he looked right THROUGH him. That his gaze reached to the secluded corners of Haldir's soul that whispered how grave his lie was at the moment.

* * *


	10. The Evil Wizard

_Thank you very much for the reviews! I know that this chapter is late, but a lot has been happening around here lately (Earth, not Middle Earth). Also, I am trying to make the timeline fit, the details fit, the geography to fit...sigh...you get the idea. _

_But here it is...a split in the road._

* * *

John was an excellent guide. He took her to the kind of places that tourists would never really stumble across - unless they were lucky. Irulan had never been too fond of cruising in the touristic circles. She preferred the wild, local, unusual and raw views and once again she was lucky enough to have a guide in a foreign place. Though, of course, it would be ridiculous to compare John in any way to Legolas. But she welcomed the laid back and friendly atmosphere and took many pictures of herself and him in many locations. They ate delicious food in shabby restaurants, met eccentric locals, got discounts for many things that she wasn't really in need of.

"So where are you headed to from here?" John said finally, when it was late afternoon and the sun was blazing in the sky once more.

Irulan knew that she could not refuse him the information any longer. After their friendly time together it would seem very hostile. Besides, she needed help and who better than John? She fished out the folded paper from her bag. "Here."

He took it, read it, then pondered for a few minutes. "That's mighty far."

She shrugged. "I'm in no hurry."

He scratched his head and returned the paper to her. "I know Shanghai like the back of my hand. But China is a big country, you know. And VERY versatile. I have no clue how the road there would be." She shrugged again. "What is there, anyway?"

"A friend," Irulan said simply.

He nodded. "Tell you what - I think we should have this address translated for you. To Chinese."

She blinked. "Why the hell for?"

John gave her a dry look. "Cause you are headed somewhere where I can not imagine a single English speaking soul to reside. How on earth will you ask for directions?"

Irulan nodded slowly. "True. Thanks, John." He waved away the appreciation. "I know a good translator. She's not too far from here, either."

"Why can't you do it?"

"For one thing, I speak Chinese, but can't write it. Its friggin impossible. Also, I don't speak all local dialects and let me tell you, there are simply too many of them." He gave her a sidelong glance. "We'll have this translated and written down. Then we'll have a few words translated and written down as well – directions, food, help…you know, that sort of thing. You can then point out if you need anything and find your way around. Actually I think you will end up in some dirthhole but nevertheless…" he shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets, "…if you want to try so badly…"

Irulan exhaled in frustration. "Thank you for having so much faith in me!"

"You're welcome." They walked in silence for a while, through what seemed to be the slums of Shanghai. Children played in the streets and Irulan smiled. She had missed the playing of children on the streets. It was not an everyday sight in New York. "Listen…" John said suddenly and scratched his head. She looked up in expectation and he didn't speak for a moment or two. "I think you shouldn't go."

Irulan blinked in surprise and smiled in confusion. "Why?"

He shrugged again, squinting his eyes. "Just a feeling in my gut." He gave her a short glance and cleared his throat. "Stay here. Or go to Hong Kong. Beijing…you know…there's not much else to see in China anyway."

"You were just telling me the opposite yesterday!" protested Irulan.

He shrugged again and looked at her. "Maybe I am lying."

Irulan's smile faltered at the gravity of his expression and they walked like that for a minute or two, turning some corners. "Why would you do that, John?" she said finally, her voice cautious and a bit hurt.

He shrugged a fourth time, great discomfort obvious in his behavior. "Maybe I'm just a bad guy, Irulan."

Irulan gave him a long look, then finally sighed and looked away. "My road back is blocked. I can only go forward now," she said finally.

"Why the hell is this so important to you?" he said, fishing out a cigarette and lighting it.

It was her turn to shrug. "Let's say…let's say you found out one day that you had a different heritage that was hidden from you, before," she began tentatively, glancing at him. He seemed concentrating on smoking. "That…one day someone came and told you that your family history is all made up and what you thought was true until then was all but a lie…"

"Yes?"

"And that you found out the truth. Wouldn't you want to know more?"

He puffed out the smoke and gave her a long look. John had the uncanny ability to go from being a jerk and a joker to serious in a flash and he seemed to have made another transformation just now. "Is that what this is about?"

"Not really," Irulan said. "I mean…I have discovered something about myself that I didn't know before and I am trying to verify it."

"You have Chinese heritage?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, you fool! It's just…I had a very heroic and brave great-great-great-grandfather."

"And you want to know if it rubbed off on you?" he said, no mocking in his tone.

She looked up at him and felt immediate relief at his serious expression. She nodded before she spoke. "Yeah…something like that. You see…everyone keeps telling me that I can't make it. But I think I can. If I really want to, I KNOW I can."

John didn't speak for a while. When they arrived to a shabby store from which the crackling tunes of Chinese music were spilling, he sighed and threw off the butt of his cigarette. "Well…stranger things have happened."

"You still think I can't make it," she said, eyeing him.

"I never said you can't make it. I said you shouldn't try. Why bother?"

She smirked. "Because it is what I am. I rise up to challenges."

"Right," he said, waving her argument away. "Then you are on the right track."

He opened the door and let himself in and she followed. The shop looked like it would collapse any moment. The music was coming from an old radio, hanging on one of the shafts and was blasting loud. John walked over to tune it down. Immediately a very skinny, old woman waddled out from another room and began to talk and bow to John, who imitated the gesture. Soon thereafter Irulan joined the ceremony.

They got the address as well as the directions translated. Irulan watched her writing both down with hypnotizing pencil strokes. John explained her as they went along with the process. Baeron's house was in the Jinxiang region of China, which lay further to the southwest of Shanghai. It was close to a city called Nanchang. John said that it was a beautiful region, with thick jungle-like forests, many lakes and rivers, along with steepy hills and mountains. She would take the train to Hangzhou first – a city that was about 180 kilometers from Shanghai and would mean a 4 hour or so journey. Then came Yingtan, followed by Nanchang. From there, Irulan would have to find a local bus or a train to the inner regions. John grinned and said that she might even have to travel on foot. Irulan was appalled by that – the distance seemed too great to walk. But she pushed the thought aside and instead focused on the next step right ahead of her – Hangzhou.

After the left the little shop they strolled around, buying a map, a city guide for Hangzhou and the other, larger cities that she would stop at along the way, and a few other necessary items for the trip.

She decided against staying another night in the hotel and decided to go to Hangzhou with an evening train. John helped her to make an arrangement at a hotel there and took her to the train station. "Why not stay another day?" he said but it helt none of the whining he had put into it the first time.

"I think it will be more fun to wake up there and start exploring right away." Irulan sighed, observing the massive crowd around her. "I will miss the daytime trip and the view of rural China, but I have a feeling that I will come to see it more than enough on this trip, anyway."

John grinned to her and motioned at the train that was pulling in. "Yours," he said before he scratched his neck and gave her a fleeting glance. "Maybe you'll see me on your way back."

"Of course!" Irulan laughed. "IF I make it back, that is," she said darkly, wiggling her eyebrows.

Instead of amusement, John replied with mysterious graveness. "Yeah," he said finally and it hung between them like a disturbing shadow.

Irulan diverted her attention to the train and grabbed her backpack when it halted completely. "Well...I think I better go," she said, turning back to him.

He smiled and opened his arms, then gave her a painfully strong hug. "Good journey, princess!"

She stilled in his arms and for a moment, a moment only, thought of Baeron who had been so fond of calling her King-daughter. "Good riddance, evil wizard," she said instead, pushing the memory aside.

She would never see John again.

* * *

That night on the rocking train Irulan dreamt of Legolas. They were standing on some sort of a hill with a sharp blue-orange sunset blooming around them. Irulan looked up and there was a tree above them, shaking with a breeze. Instantly she recognized the picture - it had been one of her favorite scenes from Gone With the Wind - when Scarlet O'Hara had stood underneath this tree and swore to the world that she would never suffer hunger again. She had always admired the character of that woman, maybe because she seemed to be so fragile and useless in the beginning, but had proven to be a woman of incredible strength over time. Scarlet O'Hara was a survivor - no matter what happened, she prevailed. 'Where does she draw that strength from?' she had thought many times, sitting in her dark livingroom.

In the dream, Legolas stood beside her and they were looking at the field together. Irulan knew it to be a dream and the uneasiness of his presence left her at that realization. It wasn't real, so she didn't feel the need to raise the barriers that she usually did, in his presence. Also, she didn't need to hide her true emotions - the fact that she enjoyed his presence. A sad melancholy came over her, because she liked him beside her and she wanted it to be like that, again. She didn't miss the passion and the romance as much as she missed the company of Legolas. 'It is strange,' she thought then. 'How a stranger can seem so close to my soul.' She sighed and threw him a glance. He was wearing black on black today and his pale complexion was pronounced by this. Orange and blue danced in his silver hair.

"Irulan, why have you run from me?" he said suddenly and she blinked in surprise.

"I have not run from you, Legolas," she said warily. "I am merely discovering myself."

He sighed and gave her a long look. "I fear that you might be in danger," he said finally.

It surprised her even further and she turned to face him fully. "That's silly, Legolas. I am fully capable of-"

"Return to me," he said, waving his hand in a dismissive manner. He took a closer step. "Return to my side," he whispered, holding both her hands in his.

Irulan looked down at their entwined grip. "Now I know for certain that this is a dream," she said with a bitter smile. "The last time you spoke you said quite a bit different things."

His fingers caressed her hands as if to soothen her, and yet Irulan didn't feel soothed. "I am sorry," he said finally. "I was bitter and angry. I felt...defeated and hopeless. Humiliated. Toyed with. Left behind." He sighed and gazed out into the fields and his face seemed somber. "I thought myself old enough to overcome such emotions. Now I think that maybe my age is exactly why I failed to handle them properly." He gave her a broken smile. "You could say that people tend to get a bit stiff at my age. We don't take setbacks as easily, anymore."

Irulan smiled back. "You are too old and I am too immature. This would never work, Legolas."

He brought up her hand and kissed her palm, then, his gaze fixed on her face. It had always excited Irulan and was something that she associated directly with him, since none of her other lovers had done this in the way Legolas used to do it. "I will take my chances," he whispered. "You must return to me," he said with a stronger voice a moment later. "I can not protect you from danger if you are not by my side."

She frowned once more. "What is this danger you are talking about?" She thought of the trip lying ahead of her and suddenly felt unsure about it. Could it be that this dream was some sort of omen - a warning, perhaps? Maybe she would have an accident. Or maybe she would be robbed or killed by some petty thieves? She might even fall prey to a disease and die in delirium. She swallowed, the unease in her growing. "Why would there be danger?" Her voice was raspy.

"I don't know," he said with a tinge of urgency and stepped closer yet, his grip on her hands growing. He was looming over her and his eyes seemed magnetic. "I don't know where it will come from. Or the nature of it. Neither do I know the reason. But I feel it, and I fear for you, Irulan."

"Well..." she stammered then, her heart thumping in her throat, "...do you...know the outcome?"

A fleeting look of horror shimmered and passed in his eyes. It was so swift that she could have easily imagined it. "All I know is that I have to find you," he whispered, cautious. "But find you, I can not!" this part was a bit more frustrated. "Why have you torn your bond to me so?"

Irulan bit her lower lip. The sensation of danger was very strong now and even though there was nothing in her immediate vicinity to be the reason for it, she felt invaded by it mentally. "What do you mean?" she managed finally, her voice quivering.

To her surprise, Legolas smiled, almost with amusement. "How do you think I found you every time anywhere in the city?" he said finally.

Irulan blinked with surprise. "I thought...they told you...I mean...someone must have..."

Legolas shook his head and she sensed an emotion akin to pride flow from him before he spoke again. "I could find you anywhere in the world, Irulan. As you could find me. If you empty your mind, you can find me. You can learn how to do it - but it is no magic. It is true," he said, cautious, "there were times when I required help from others. But most of the time I sensed your location and I merely strode or rode to meet you there."

Her eyebrows rose in amazement. "Wow," she said, "I never thought of that." Her mind went back to the times Legolas had sprinted out of nowhere and true enough, it had usually been in places that did not include her routine daily schedule. Places like a cafe or a ticket line or a store - locations she visited only for a short period of time. Anyone reporting to Legolas would have found it hard to describe the location and have him arrive there during the short timespan Irulan was there. "Now that I think about it, you always came upon me so out of nowhere..." She laughed again. "Wow."

He nodded before his face gained a more serious expression. "But our bond has been severed and it is harder for me now. In fact, I hardly sensed your leaving. Nor can I sense now where you are. It frightens me," he added and kissed her palm again. "I find myself helpless."

Irulan watched him and the same terror washed over her. She realized then that until now, the presence of Legolas in her life had given her a sense of protection and comfort, although she hadn't be too conscios of it. She remembered once being abused by one of her co-workers and that she had failed to report his suggestive manner because he was married and had two kids. The idea that he would face his family if she filed a complaint seemed unbearable to her. He deserved to be punished, no doubt, but the punishment would, in a way, extend to his family as well and she felt incapable of having a few policemen tell his children that their father was such a man. But she didn't have to fret for long. Merely two days later she came upon his cleared desk and he never came back. She heard that he had been transfered - not to a very pleasant location, either, as an emergency. She had thought of Legolas, then, but it had seemed a far-fetched fantasy to assume that Legolas knew her whereabouts so much.

But things of that nature always happened around her. The landlord who would bother her for silly reasons stopped calling twice a week. The company that had refused to honor the warranty on her laptop called back and told her that they would be proud to do so - and even upgrade her current computer for free for the misunderstanding. Finally even Irulan -who was simply unable to see such connections until they were right in her face- had sensed that Legolas had something to do with all these 'coincidences'. She should have been angry. Normally that would have been her reaction. After all, she HAD been angry at his gifts, flowers and other obvious offers. However, in a silly way, it had pleased her.

Irulan had discovered very early in her life that she couldn't hold a grudge. It was simply not in her nature. And as time passed, her frustration at Legolas' unceasing attempts had dampened. In the end, she had found herself even capable of a decent conversation with him. So it was that these little attempts of 'help' on his behalf had not annoyed her. On the contrary - she sensed that Legolas felt happy to do them and she felt no reason to refuse them. They never spoke about it. She had been tempted to ask but no doubt, Legolas would have denied it -subtly, if not openly- in fear that she was angry at his interference. Plus, he was too proud to come out and take credit for his deeds. So she had left it unmentioned and it became a mysterious and kind bond between them. When all other bonds failed, when their words were harsh, their actions sharp, their emotions sizzling, this was the only gentle and soothing thing Irulan would recall and hang on to. Legolas cared for her. Not only in a way a man would care for a woman. He cared for her beyond that and worried for her well-being on every level. There was something very relieving and pure about that and she held on to it when all else failed.

Now, in the field under the orange sun, she realized with sudden panic that this very bond, too, was lost between them. For the first time ever since they had first laid eyes on each other, Irulan was not only out of his control, but also out of his ring of protection and care. True, this had happened before, when she had run to Baeron, but then Baeron had been there and he was no less protection and care.

'I have been alone all my life,' she thought, baffled at her own degree of fear, 'and I have not felt afraid like this. How can this be?!'

The tree above them shook again and a chilly breeze came up. 'I am Aragorn's kin,' she thought to herself, trying to convince herself. 'I can DO this!'

Legolas cocked his head, as if he had heard those thoughts. He didn't speak for a while, but merely gazed down at her and she found it impossible to tell what he was thinking. "Even the mightiest need someone to lean on," he whispered finally. Irulan cast down her gaze to their grip, not certain if she felt discomfort at that thought, or relief. She wanted to be like Scarlett O'Hara, damn it! She wanted to be someone of strength and purpose. And just like Scarlett O'Hara, she wanted the very man who was simply wrong for her in every conceivable way.

She woke up, then, drifting out of the dream with a sense of loss and defeat, for no particular reason. Once, she had made another train night like this, at night, and Baeron had been there to tell her of Bentanta. Irulan sighed. In a strange way, she seemed to be thinking of Baeron more and more often. But then, it was not that strange. After all, he was the reason she was here right now and he was the person she was chasing. Maybe more than she was even chasing herself. The fear subsided with the realization that she was very close to her destination now. But the feeling of loss and emptiness did not. 'Maybe our bond IS really broken,' she thought later as she watched the dark rural China swim by her train window. A part of her smirked at that. 'Big deal,' it said. 'You didn't feel it as much as he did, to begin with.' But another, perhaps smaller part, felt like she had held something of utter value in her palm, then watch it drop into murky water, never to be recovered again.

* * *

Anne and Russel noticed the agitated state of Legolas, of course. Not that he seemed agitated. On the contrary – he was as calm as ever. Nevertheless, he was too distracted to control the barrier that kept his emotions from roaming the world around him and his anxiety was a mild buzz, easily picked up by everyone around him. At least everyone who was not too dense to miss it. And neither Anne nor Russel were that dense. They threw each other questioning glances, then decided to leave it be.

Haldir, too, seemed tense, but refused to speak about what the matter was. Legolas had no qualms about using the aid of the Circle for locating Irulan –especially in that last hour before they landed in Shanghai airport- and it was just a matter of minutes before the Circle called back, giving them the hotel name and address where her credit card was used.

"That was fast," mumbled Anne, suddenly a bit anxious of confronting Irulan this early. She had expected some chasing around, some tracking. She had HOPED for that – because the delay would have given everyone more time to "cool off", so to say. After all, as soon as Irulan and Legolas were face to face, all hell would break lose, no doubt. And after that they would discover her scheming and then the second apocalypse would erupt. "Ouch!"

Russel grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away from the two elves. He halted, glanced at them –they looked back with something like astonishment- and decided that their damn ears could probably hear from that distance, so took Anne's arm again and dragged her some more. "Listen!" he hissed then, turning his back to the two men – maybe they could read lips, who would know?! "I hope that that evil mind of yours has also thought of a way of avoiding the conversation between Irulan and Hea....Legolas, I mean, that will fry us both instantly!"

"I had no idea they would find her so soon!" she seethed back.

Russel blinked with shock. "Is that a 'no'?"

"Russel, I had no time to think about it!"

"You had the 14 friggin hours on the plane!"

Anne shifted on her feet with unease. "I was resting, ok?"

He brought up his hand to his face. "Resting?! RESTING?! What the hell from? Sitting around?!"

"Oh, please! What's up with the drama?" she countered and glanced at the elves, waiting for them.

"What's up with the...Anne! I don't think you realize whom we are facing here!" He locked her shoulders in his grip and did what he had meant to do for the longest time – shake her with fury twice. "THE Legolas, woman!!"

She slapped off his hands and combed her hair away from her face "What are you? Insane? I am aware of that, thank you."

"I hope he plasters you against a wall, too," Russel said dryly after a long gaze. "I really do. I won't move a finger, so you know." He turned away from her, then and walked back to the waiting men.

She combed her hand through her hair, exhaled in frustration, then joined them. "Do we need to go there right away?" she said to Haldir. "I mean...this can wait. We could check into a hotel and..."

"You can check into that hotel," Legolas answered.

"Yeah...but..." Anne stammered. "But...I mean is it a good idea to meet Irulan right away?"

"Why not?" the Prince said slowly, turning to her. "You saw her letter. She must be very depressed. The sooner we find her, the better."

"Yes, of course," Anne whined, glancing at Russel who gave her a blank, expressionless look. "However, she will be mad if she sees us like this!" Legolas didn't reply, so she tried to elaborate. She hated lying, damn it! She hated it! Dancing around the truth was far easier. "Maybe we should just...I don't know, observe her for a while...and then...later when we are certain how she is doing, I mean..."

Haldir pursed his lips and glanced at the other elf. The Prince's stance spoke of his strong determination and his deep anxiety. He knew that Anne's arguments were pointless – he would never change his mind now. "We are not here to play spies, Anne," Legolas cut in finally with a frosty tone. "I am well aware that she will dislike the sight of us, but she will see us sooner or later. I'd much prefer it to be BEFORE something happens to her."

She opened her mouth, gave Haldir and Russel a last, pleading look, then sighed in defeat and closed it. "Fine," was all she mumbled.

They got into a taxi and drove to the hotel in tense silence. Shanghai flew by them, but neither Anne, nor Russel were in the mood to enjoy the ride as they bit their nails and awaited the upcoming confrontation.

The hotel was big enough and full with tourists. Legolas and Haldir purposefully strode to the lobby, attracting the usual admiration and curiosity. Anne and Russel scampered behind them, attracting none of the sort. They bid a good day –in Chinese- and asked about a guest staying there. The lobby of course would not give her room number, but they politely asked them to give her a call.

The staff scanned through their computers. "I'm sorry, sir," the pretty woman in the navy colored suit said in English. "She checked out yesterday evening."

Legolas took a deep breath that spoke of disappointment. "Did she by any chance mention where she was going?"

He knew the slim chance of that, but being a stranger in this place, Irulan might have asked them for directions. The woman smiled with regret and shook her head. "But I did not do her check-out. Please wait while I ask my collagues." She politely waved in the direction of the waiting area and the elves nodded, then walked there to sit in the large red armchairs.

"I can't believe we missed her by only a day!" Anne sighed. Strangely, she didn't sound disappointed at all.

"Didn't she tell you where Baeron's estate was?" Haldir asked, leaning his elbows on his knees.

Russel shook his head. "We didn't really get the chance to speak to her much. She packed and left. And we...we found the note afterwards." He waited for a moment. "The Circle wouldn't know where his house is?"

"Baeron had two estates in China that we know about," Legolas murmured. "But they are both in the very northern part. Irulan would not have taken this route to Shanghai if she meant to go there. There must be a third one that we don't know about."

"How come?"

Haldir shrugged to Anne. "We don't necessarily report our private posessions to the Circle. Most of our ownership is recorded, but it's no rule to do so."

Just then the receptionist arrived and bowed slightly before she spoke. "I'm sorry, sir, but she asked no questions. She left this morning early with her friend."

Legolas blinked and dropped the hand that was pinching the bridge of his nose. "Her friend?"

"Yes, sir. There was a man with her." The woman gave their surprised expression an uneasy look. "Her friend," she said, trying to make them understand.

"I don't think Irulan knew anyone in China," Anne intervened. "Who was this man?"

"I don't know," the woman said simply.

Haldir said something in Chinese then and the woman hesitated. They locked eyes and he spoke again. Anne and Russel waited, anxious where this was going as the woman listened attentively. She replied after a moment and it sounded like a question. The elf continued, his voice soft but determined. She hesitated again. "Please come with me, sir," she said finally to him. "Maybe we can find the answers to your questions."

They left and Anne bit her lip not to ask what just had happened. They waited for what seemed eternity while Legolas said in expressionless patience. In reality, it only took 15 minutes and finally Haldir strode back to the company. Everyone jumped to their feet at his arrival. "His name is John Cosgrove. I understand that he is some kind of tour guide and had clients from this hotel, before."

Legolas frowned for a moment, then took out his cellphone. He dialed a number and waited. "John Cosgrove, residing in Shanghai. Possible occupation, tourist guide," he said after a short silence. "I want information as soon as possible."

"The hotel has a contact number," Haldir said then.

Legolas nodded. "I still want to know more about this man before we go to him." The dim recollection of the dream floated back to him and the discomfort returned. 'He's just a guide,' he told himself. But the idea that Irulan could be in danger made him move cautious nevertheless. He would not move on clumsily now. He would take careful steps and would not make any mistakes that could result in Irulan's harm.

He turned off the phone and gave Anne a long look. "Don't worry. We will find her," he said. "Haldir, let's check in. Our friends seem tired."

"I already acquired rooms for us," Haldir smiled and handed Anne and Russel their keys. He gave another one to Legolas. "Let us rest a little and meet for lunch?"

Anne nodded, dumbfounded. She didn't know if she was sorry that they had missed Irulan, or glad for the luck. "Call us if you find something, all right?"

* * *

They arrived at John's house that evening, having found out nothing about him other than the fact that he was more crook than guide and had been living in Shanghai for many years. He was not at home. Anne whined about starving and everyone realized that it had been an awfully long time since they last ate, so they decided to go for dinner first. When they returned and knocked on the door again, the rustle from inside told them that their guide had arrived. He called out in Chinese, asking who it was and Haldir pretended not to understand and spoke in English, saying that they are customers interested in a deal.

The reaction to that was hesitant and for a while they heard nothing. Finally though the door was unlocked and cracked open to reveal a man in his mid-thirties. He gave them an overall look. "Hello," he said finally.

"Hello," smiled Haldir. "John Cosgrove, I assume?"

The man glanced at Haldir, then at Legolas –who stood at the side, unmoving- "You assume right," he said slowly. "How can I be of assitance, gentlemen?" He threw Anne a smoldering look. "And my lady?" was his drawl of an addition.

"Can we come in?" Haldir said politely.

"Well..." he threw a glance over his shoulder, "...this place is too messy to show it to my visitors. I...wasn't prepared, you know." He hesitated for a moment. "Let me put on a shirt and join you guys outside."

The door was closed upon them. Haldir gave Legolas a long look and the other nodded. The Lothlorien elf stepped back, then and made as if he would kick in the door. "What are you doing?" Russel said in amazement.

"He is lying," was Legolas' flat reply.

"How do you kn-.."

Too late. The door smashed in a moment later and Anne and Russel scrambled in after the two elves only to find –to their surprise- an empty room. Legolas ran to the right, through a small corridor and ended up at an open window. He mumbled under his breath before he gracefully jumped through it, landing on the terrace and running after John, who was jumping to another roof right then.

It took Legolas about thirty seconds to catch up. He grabbed John's shirt and hauled him away from another stunt he was getting ready to perform. The man barely managed a shout of surprise, then rolled down the remaining part of the roof, hung in air for a few moments, and landed on another, flatter terrace. The air went out his lungs with the impact of the fall and before he could gather his second breath, the elf was upon him. Again, he was hauled from the ground by the grip on the back of his shirt, flipped over and pressed to the ground.

When Legolas' face appeared above him and his steel grip pressed down on his chest, John had already given up the struggle. He may not have been wise, but he was not so stupid as not to see that he was at a clear disadvantage here. For a moment or two nothing happened and he managed a painful inhalation. Then he felt it - the threat washing over him. First subtle and gossamer, then stronger, until his heart decided against slowing down and actually picked up pace.

"You can not escape," the blonde man above him said and John blinked, unable to tear his gaze from the cold gaze he was receiving just then. "It would be in your favor not to try again."

He nodded weakly and the man stepped back and away, his eyes still glued to him. He threw a quick glance around him and dusted himself off. "I could have fallen all the way, you know," he rasped, patting his chest.

"You still can," Legolas said curtly.

John swallowed and shifted on his feet to pretend indifference, but he was very sure that he was not doing a good job at the moment. For one thing, he was truly afraid. And it took a lot to scare him. "No need for that, my friend," he smirked finally. "I'm not stupid."

Legolas nodded only once. "Where is Irulan?"

John sighed and tried to look surprised. Again, he found himself doing a lousy job of it, because the other's eyes betrayed his disbelief. 'There's no way to pretend I don't know her,' he thought obviously and decided to play along. "Why?"

The eyebrows of the other rose in what could only be described as cold amusement. "I don't have much time, so let's make this very clear. I will ask the questions here. You will reply quickly, shortly and honestly."

"Or else?"

"Or else," Legolas said slowly, "I will not save you from becoming a broken heap of bones in a deserted alley in Shanghai."

John followed the man's gaze to his right, to the edge of the terrace. The fall wouldn't kill him, no doubt, but perhaps this man would come down to finish what gravity failed to do. And he was not very fond of pain. Not at all. He smirked again and combed his fingers through his hair. "Fine. I don't know."

Legolas gave him a blank look. "That wasn't very honest." he said. The next string of events was a blur to John. He remembered the other standing right before him, maybe two steps away. Then he remembered a swift movement, and before anything could register, he felt a sharp pain in his left arm, accompanied by a loud crack. He howled in pain, stumbling back several feet, then sinking onto his knees while his right arm cradled his left. For several minutes he failed to suppress his whimpers and it took him his entire control not to cry. "You broke my arm!" he screamed.

Legolas just looked back with pure disinterest. Just then Haldir arrived by his side, calm and expressionless as well. They watched John moan and whimper for a while, then the Prince spoke again. "One more time - where is Irulan?"

John breathed heavily. His arm was throbbing painfully and the world seemed to be swimming in a hot blaze. He swallowed, his throat as dry as parchment. "Why should I tell you?" he rasped finally, glancing up. He saw dark specks in front of his eyes and resisted the temptation to faint. "What business do you have with her?"

"We are her friends," Haldir said, regarding him with a cool expression. "We believe that she might be in danger. And you running away just confirmed that."

"And I am supposed to believe that?" the other man spat.

Haldir advanced then and John thought that he looked more like a predator animal than a human being. He knelt on one knee, his face inches from John's and the other man swallowed hard, trying not to move. "But you DO believe us, John," he said calmly.

He opened his mouth to deny it, then glanced at Legolas, standing with a regal pose merely steps away, and decided against it. He intended to keep his right arm, thank you very much. John sighed and bit his lip. The threat was still there, throbbing along with his arm. And yet... "How do I know that you won't kill me if I tell you?"

Haldir's eyebrow rose in a manner an adult would be amused at the banter of a child. "Because I tell you so," he said finally.

John rasped a little more. He knew of course that his stalling meant nothing. He had no choice. Now that he was captured, they could leave him, or they could kill him. But they WOULD find the answers to their questions first. Assuming that being helpful at this point could strenghten his chance of coming alive out of this, he decided to give in. "Look...I don't want that woman to come to harm."

"Neither do we. That is why we need to find her."

John eyed them with deep suspicion. "You mean she WILL come to harm by some other?" They didn't answer and he prodded on. "Who? And how do you know?"

"Are you asking questions again?" the Prince said in a frosty tone and John shrank back, unable to suppress a shiver that ran down his spine at the voice.

Haldir gave Legolas a reassuring look. "We are friends of Irulan," he said calmly, returning his attention to the other man. "You can believe that."

"Oh really?" John said, still looking rather mistrusting. "Then how come you don't know where she is headed to?"

Legolas was done with patience. He took a step toward the huddling man, eager to beat the answer out of him but Haldir held up his hand to the Prince, urging him silently to hold back a little longer. The other elf hesitated and bore his eyes into John. "If you don't speak really fast," Haldir said then, "I will not be able to protect you any longer. And frankly, I don't know if I should, to begin with."

"I don't know if you are friend or enemy!" John wailed with frustration. "And I will NOT tell anything to Irulan's enemy!"

Haldir nodded in agreement to that. "And how can we prove our good intend?"

John hesitated. He eyed the statuesque other elf one last time, then mumbled "All right...if you are Irulan's friends, you should also know her private life." Legolas gave Haldir a perplexed look, but remained silent and watchful. John pushed up his chin and gave the elves a defiant glance. "She told me of someone. Someone she really loved. More than she has ever loved anyone else, she said. I want you to tell me his name."

The elves exchanged confused glances, then stared down at the panting man. "Is this a joke?" Legolas seethed finally. "Enough with this nonsense, Haldir! Step aside."

Haldir, though, remained calm and rose to his feet. "Heath Greenleaf," he said simply, locking eyes with John.

The answer stilled both other men. Despite his fury, Legolas could not help but feel a trifle anxious and curious as he glanced back at John, trying to read his expression. The man seemed surprised 'I guess I am not the one in her heart, anymore,' he thought wryly, then. And why would he be? He had almost spat to her face when she had called for an apology. Perhaps she had spoken about Russel instead. Irulan wasn't aware of the man's advances, no doubt, and she might still be considering him a friend only, but even as a friend he seemed to have gained more of her love than Legolas had managed to, despite all his efforts. The brutality of that thought took his breath away and he swallowed, feeling the noises of Shanghai beating on his back. He made as if to turn around – if not to leave, then to gain a little space to breathe but John spoke just then.

"True," he said slowly. Then a moment later. "True."

Again, the Prince stilled. And this time it was simply to breathe out the despair and instead, inhale hope. 'It was me she spoke of,' he thought, dumbfounded. He had never doubted that Irulan loved him. If she hadn't, there would have never been a bond between them. However, the bond was broken now and this disturbed him on more than on one level. For one thing, he didn't know what her feelings to him were. 'What does it matter, fool!' his inner demons stirred. 'It's over!' And yet...it DID matter. In almost a childish, helpless, foolish way he wanted to have her liking more than he wanted anybody else's liking. Her love? He would easily risk death for that.

Legolas turned, suddenly realizing that he had missed part of the conversation. "...you run?" Haldir was saying, placing his feet slightly apart. "You could have told us the truth from the very beginning."

"How the hell was I supposed to know you came for that?!" John spat. "I'm no child, you know! The moment I saw you I knew you were not here for a tour. Nobody contacts me at home for a tour. You had 'danger' written all over you. And I was right in that, by the looks of it!" he added with a glare to Legolas.

"Where did she go?" the Prince said, crossing his arms on his chest to hide the incredible joy that was running through him at the moment.

John sighed with defeat. "Fine. She took the train to Nanjing yesterday night. I got her her ticket."

Haldir gave him a long look and John looked back with all the innocence he could muster. "Should I check on that?" the blonde man said finally, his tone low.

He shrugged. "Go ahead. Though I bought it with cash, so it might not be on the records."

"Where is she planning to go?" Legolas interfered then.

"She said to a friend. Close to Hefei."

Again, there was a silence and they remained like that, the heat beating down on them. Finally it was Legolas who broke it. "We should not lose any more time. Let us go, Haldir."

Haldir nodded and stepped away. Then he hesitated and turned to glance back at John. "If you are lying to us, know that we can find you, John Cosgrove."

John waved a dismissive, defeated arch with his arm. "Yeah, I noticed." He rose on his shaking legs, giving the duo's back a spiteful look. "And you should know that if you harm her, that Heath guy will probably kill you!"

To his surprise, both men laughed the sweetest, most incredible and unique laughter to that as they walked on, leaving a dumbfounded John listening to the residue of it, long after they were out of sight.

The elves climbed down the terraces with fluid movements and met the anxious duo of Anne and Russel at the corner of the street Haldir had told them to wait at. Information was exchanged and both Anne and Russel were relieved to hear that she was safe and sound. Not that they had believed it to be otherwise! "Nanjing? Is it far?" Russel said finally.

"No. Only a few hours by train. We should leave as soon as possible."

"Maybe," Anne said then with a lighter tone, "China is a good experience for her. I mean...maybe this journey is really changing her mood." She glanced at the three men and decided that she was on the right track. "She seems to be having a good time, no?" Haldir and Russel said nothing, but merely looked at Legolas. "If we give her a few days..."

"You can stay behind, if you want," Legolas cut her short and replaced his sunglasses. It was nighttime, but he felt too happy at the moment and not very eager to share the twinkles in his eyes. "I'll arrange your stay in the hotel, if you want. Shanghai is a beautiful city."

"Of course not!" she protested. "All I'm saying is..."

"Whatever you have to say, you can say on the train," Legolas smiled to her, then turned and left.

They watched him walk away for a few moments. "He is so...difficult!" Anne moaned with frustration.

"He is determined, that's all," Haldir said. "After all, YOU made him believe that her safety was at stake. And I would say you did a good job."

The woman groaned and began to trott after Legolas. Haldir took the opporturnity to look back at Russel. "Russel," he began cautiously, "I agree with Legolas. I think we should find Irulan as soon as possible."

"Yeah. I prefer a clean and quick death, myself," was the annoyed reply.

"No," Haldir said and waved his arm in a dismissive gesture. He urged Russel to join him and both men began to follow the duo ahead. "I have a feeling that Irulan might indeed be in danger."

Russel blinked to that. "What do you mean?" He received no answer. "Granted, she is a bit clumsy. But Irulan is a smart woman. I'm sure she will find her way to Nanjing or wherever."

"Call it an intuition," the elf said slowly, so that he wouldn't be overheard by the Prince. "Just...keep that in mind." Russel nodded slowly, trying to think of possible dangers to Irulan. "I don't know what the journey ahead holds for us. If, for some reason, we might get separated, I just wanted you to know."

"I understand. Thank you, Haldir."

The Marchwarden smiled and gave him a nod with the head. By that time they had reached a determined, but strangely joyful Legolas and a whining, frustrated Anne.

* * *

"Did they buy it?" she said, fixing her sunglasses.

John took a mouthful from his beer. "You bet they did."

Her voice was as cold as ice as she continued. "You resisted like I told you to?"

John gave her a sheepish look. Finally he held up the cast of his left arm. "What do you think?"

"And what did you tell them?"

"I told them she went north," he spat and took another gulp.

She didn't smile, but merely said "Good," then got up, leaving an envelope on the counter. He reached out for her hand before she could depart and she turned around, looking down at him behind those dark glasses. "I know why you did it," he said, aware of his own slurring.

She cocked one eyebrow. "Really?"

He nodded. The painkillers he had taken to dull the throbbing along with the alcohol did fantastic things to his brain. "You could have cought her in Shanghai. But you didn't." He gave her a grin. "I know why." She didn't say anything, but merely leaned back on the counter, looking down on him. There was something like amusement on her face. John allowed himselt the feeling of a small victory. "You knew her friends were coming," he said, taking another long draft from the bottle. "And you didn't want them to witness...or interfere. So you had to send them away."

Her smile was obvious this time. "Aren't you the smart one?" she cooed.

He gave the envelope a glance. "And I had to resist so that they would believe my lie. That's a lot of money for such a small deed." He hesitated moment. "Unless you will...What exactly WILL you do to her?"

This time her pearly teeth showed when she grinned. She glanced around the bar for a few moments, apparently in boredom. "I will be honest with you," she said finally, "I don't know." He snorted with disbelief, and she continued. "I play a small role in this. As do you."

"Smart man, then, whoever it is," he mumbled. "Puts so many layers between himself and Irulan that it will be impossible to track him down."

She nodded, her eyes still on the other occupants of the bar. "I do agree, however, that this whole thing was to separate her from her friends. It would have been easy to get her in Shanghai. But...it will be easier to get her outside of it. China is an interesting country." She sighed with mock frustration.

"She was a good woman," he murmured a long moment later, his eyes glazing.

"You almost sound resentful," she said, cocking her eyebrow again.

He gave the money envelope another look. "Me?" He took another gulp and finished the bottle, his eyes still on the envelope. "Maybe it's time to retire."

She turned to face him then, still leaning back onto the bar in a casual manner. "Splendid idea." Her tone was slow, deep and almost lustful. John blinked and looked at her, feeling the alcohol seeping into his brain. She took off her glassed then, in one single, slow, graceful manner and he watched, almost mesmerized. The light in the dim bar rode on her pitch black hair like moon on dark water.

Maybe that is why never saw the knife that planted itself in his gut.


	11. I Am Coming To Your Call

_Hello Everyone!_

_Dear Raphael,_

_I love to disappoint. This story will continue. It is, in fact, finished in its rough texture. But I owe an explanation to my beloved readers. Here it is:_

_So much has happened in this past month! First and foremost, I moved and was, therefore, cut off the internet for a long time. Second, my status in the company that I am working at changed dramatically – in my favor, cause I went up from being the manager to the owner. Alas, this was preceded by going to court and kicking a sadist bastard out. And thirdly, I am about to go overseas for both a surgery and a vacation. _

_A lot of drama going on in the real world and believe me, I felt the pressure of the delayed update on my neck. If I had the internet connection I probably would have written anyway, but it took a while to get that. _

_I know that I have many lovers and haters and I promised them both six finished stories (counting Irulan 3). They will get them – whether they like it or not. It will be a repetition but fear not – I will NOT abandon my stories. Pentimento is impossible to abandon anyway – it is, in its essence, finished. _

_Now…as for the upcoming vacation – I will have no internet access and the next chapter has to wait. I will try to squeeze in another chapter before I go but don't hold me to that. _

_Someone offered her generous help for Irulan's journey through __China__ and yes, if you read this, it would be amazing if you could give me that. Many have written beautiful words and praises – believe me, nothing could motivate me better. I didn't have the time to reply but I read them all – several times. And finally, some have spat their hatred. Thanks to them, too. If anything is more motivating than praise, it would be spit. Ha ha ha. _

_Let us proceed. The pace is slow and the action is building. Have patience – every chapter leads us to where we are bound to go and is therefore, necessary. _

_Oh and note – the woman who kills John is neither Amanda, nor Elizabeth. Guys, your imagination certainly outwits mine! She was just a background figure, hired for that little job. Amanda would never have the guts or the stomach to do that, I think. _

_Much love and hope for patience. _

_Darma__ Druid_

_

* * *

_

Ellen blew out the smoke and squinted into the crowded night. "Nice country, this."

Irulan sighed and sipped from her green tea. "Amazing. I love it so far. And it seems to get better with every stop."

"So where're you headed to?"

Irulan smiled and glanced at the slim, muscular woman sitting across her and chainsmoking. Brunette, slightly freckled with sharp features and a gorgeous eye color that seemed to drift between hazel and green. A hiker, climber, biker and everything in between from San Fransisco, Ellen seemed to be utterly at home in Hangzhou, though it was her first time, just like Irulan. 'But then she has traveled almost everywhere,' Irulan thought a bit resentful. 'All this must be rather usual for her'. "Nancheng," she sighed finally, glancing around the terrace that was located above the crowded street and offered a fascinating night view of Hangzhou. "Eventually. A friend of mine has a house there. It's the journey that matters, of course." Ellen nodded in full understanding and glanced up at the dozens of colorful lanterns swinging in the cool breeze above them. "You think it's dangerous?" she prodded on.

"Dangerous?" snorted Ellen and blew another puff of smoke. "For your sake, I hope so."

"I intend to get there alive, thank you," Irulan grinned.

"Not more dangerous than New York, my dear," the other grinned back. "Heck, a little danger is good for you. Pumps up those hormones in you, y'know."

Irulan nodded and looked over the city again. She had spent the entire day walking around and now her soles were hurting from the effort. Not that she regretted it! Not at all! She loved Hangzhou, even more than Shanghai. It was incredibly exotic, lush and gave off the impression of an untouched territory – although it was swarming with tourists. It had the local, authentic Chinese flavor that Shanghai seemed to lack.

"How about you?" she asked then.

Ellen took her time fishing out another cigarette and lightning it before she answered. "I'll stick here for a while. Then probably head further north." She gave Irulan a feral grin. "On foot, of course."

"You are crazy," Irulan rolled her eyes. "You should get a map of China. You'll change your mind when you see how big it is."

"Excuse me, city GIRL," was the response, accompanied by a wider grin.

"Excused, cavewoman," Irulan said, then coughed a little when the smoke flew her way. She sighed suddenly. "My friend died, you know," she added finally, her tone a mere murmur. Ellen didn't interfere. "Then one who owned the house. He...left it to me."

"He must have liked ya."

"I guess," she said.

"Or hated ya."

"Huh? Impossible!"

"Well he gave you a friggin house in the middle of nowhere. Sounds kind of vengeance to me." She leaned forward a little, her eyes flashing with amusement. "You angered him?"

"No," Irulan groaned and sipped a little more tea.

"Sure," was the sly reply.

Irulan gave her mock spiteful look. "How is your room?"

"Like yours," laughed Ellen. "It's across yours, in case you haven't noticed."

"I know that, you spiteful thing," seethed Irulan. "I mean is the shower working in yours?"

"Yeah. Used it this morning. Why?"

"Mine is not," Irulan huffed.

"No shit?"

"Yeah. I told the reception and they said they would fix it. Only tomorrow!"

"Well…use mine."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Actually, use my room. I showered this morning and I'll take it back tomorrow once you leave. Until then..." she shrugged to that.

Irulan blinked with surprise. "Truly?"

Ellen gave her a long look as the smoke swirled around her. "I'm not offering myself in it, you know. I'll take yours."

Irulan laughed then, waving away the smoke. "Ah well...I had to ask!" she chuckled with mock disappointment.

Ellen grinned again. And lighted another cigarette.

So it was that Irulan dragged her backpack across the corridor and bid Ellen goodnight, then locked her door and changed before she slid beneath the the sheets. She sighed and thought of her day. It had been amazing, to say the least. That is, aside all the times she had thought of Legolas. Which had been a lot, to be honest.

She exhaled in frustration and turned in her bed. "I put all this distance between us, and yet I think of him! Cursed! That's what I am, cursed!" she muttered. The thought that she could be here with him came to her and it was enraging not to know whether she felt elated or discouraged by that idea. It had been so nice to travel with Legolas. A true feast for the ego, that was sure. All aside, he could have probably told her a lot about China and his past experiences there. She sighed again. 'And that, exactly, is my curse," she mumbled to herself. Her passion for knowledge. Her interest in the past. Things like battles, emperors, great men and women who had lived and breathed long before her time. Things lost to her. Legolas had told her during their trip that maybe Irulan shouldn't prod the past so much, that the truth she might find out about it could wash away the mystery and leave the bitter tang of disappointment. "History books are full with imaginary, fictional things, Irulan," he had told her, smiling that enigmatic smile of his. "The passage of time softens the rough edge of things and leaves a dust of mystery on past occurrences. The truth behind it all dwindles into mist and haze and the human mind tries to weld in connections that were not present. Most 'heroes' you admire so much were probably dull and shallow in real life. Great many of the kings and leaders you speak so in awe of were, in truth, mean, selfish and utterly boring. Humans like to elate names once they are gone and everyone who knew them once, has been forgotten."

"So true," she mumbled to herself as the haze of sleep loomed over her and the noises of Hangzhou faded into the background. Anyone who knew elves from books and legend would think them to be perfect in every any and any way, wouldn't they? Hadn't Irulan thought of them as these graceful, magical, serene beings? And then she had met elves. It wasn't a disappointment - not at all. But her thoughts concerning them that dated before her meeting appeared childish and naive to her, now. Now she knew that they were just like humans - beautiful, yet never perfect; strong, yet dented with weaknesses. But Legolas had been wrong. The truth hadn't diminished them in her eyes. It was the fact that they were as they were that made it all interesting. 'Who cares about great men and women who emanate only perfection? It is the fact that they were flawed like everyone else and yet achieved what they did, that makes it interesting.'

Sleep overwhelmed her then and Irulan sighed softly, announcing defeat in the face of it. The conscious part of her mind wondered if she would dream again. Her dreams had been so vivid ever since she had come to China, and mostly they centered either around Legolas, or Baeron. It didn't seem strange to her. She was here because of Baeron and it was only natural that the more she thought of him the more she would dream of him. And it was never strange to dream of Legolas, anyway. His presence as well as his absence was hard to ignore. She drifted off and let go, ready to face either elf. But it was neither elf who visited. Irulan slept a dark, fitful slumber, her dreams lost in the blackness that closed in on her.

* * *

Anne glanced at her food. "I am a pig," she thought, then stuffed another chopstickfull into her mouth. Her expression was pure ecstasy. Normally not fond of Chinese food, she discovered that it had only been so because she hadn't eaten REAL Chinese food. It was simply amazing and good enough to ignore the tightening of her jeans on her waistline.

"He is a philosopher, for God's sake!" grunted Russel with objection and rolled some more lo mein unto his fork (he had no intentions of using chopsticks and embracing himself in front of the whole restaurant along with the elves).

"If they call every cunning, ancient, ugly and overly cruel man a philosopher, then yes, Confucious was no doubt the sifu of all philosophers," Haldir grinned.

Legolas chuckled and shook his head. Just seeing him like that brought a flare of relief into Anne's heart. But she knew that his demeanor was deceiving. Legolas was in a foul mood and she knew that if he wasn't courteous and hadn't that elvish patience of his, he would rather grab the table and turn it upside down - preferably so that the food would land in Russel's face, too. The faint tenseness that was coming from his direction was like a constant, accursed itch. She knew that he was restless. Because although they had spent an entire day in Nanjing, they had been unable to locate any track of Irulan. It was no surprise to her - no matter how efficient the web of information that the Circle possessed, it was unfair to expect them to find a single woman in such a crowded (not to mention, chaotic) place on such short notice. Haldir had told her that Legolas was fuming with anger at the 'incapability' of the Circle and had hissed remarks about how obviously major changes were necessary in its structure, since it was of no damn use at all when needed.

But the Marchwarden had added with a lower tone that it was only worry that made the Prince speak so. The Circle was more than efficient, he had explained to her. It's been running for hundreds and thousands of years all over the globe and just the fact that only very few knew of it was proof of how good it was functioning. Nevertheless, just like a complicated living organism, the Circle had adapted itself to satisfy its needs in the best manner. Meaning, while it knew the location of every crime leader, could obtain or simply hack the codes of every organization or institution on the planet, could locate a government official within minutes in any country and any time and knew the secret ceremonies and names of every member of every secret religious sect -in short, things that it needed to know to continue it's task- it was baffled to silence by a request that demanded an American woman to be found IMMEDIATELY in a city in China. True enough, Irulan was not any woman. She was the heir of Aragorn and no doubt, she would probably faint out of sheer fury if she knew how much the Circle knew about her up to date (Mercifully only a tiny section of those files had been revealed to her). But even an organization as vast as the Circle could not spend needless energy and time simply to track down every heir or every mortal and immortal member of the organization. "Given enough time, they would find her," Haldir had sighed. "But...given enough TIME," he had repeated resentfully.

Anne gulped down another mouthful and kept her eyes on Legolas, who was listening to Haldir with amusement as the Marchwarden told a stunned Russel his conversations with the famous Chinese philosopher. The blue gaze of the Prince would drift towards Russel every now and then. Anne had to admit that he was good at hiding his emotions. Very good. Better than anyone else. And yet, the dislike, curiosity and jealousy he felt for Russel must have been too overwhelming to hide ALL of it, because even in those fleeting looks she could read those expressions - if only for an instant. Russel, on the other hand, was far easier to read and the really surprising part was that the very same sentiments rang in his eyes, too, when he chose to gaze at the elf. If not for Haldir, who played the bridge part far better than herself, the two men would have probably grabbed each other's throat ages ago.

'Okay, so it wasn't a good idea, after all,' she thought with something like misery and played with her food with her chopsticks. The feeling of regret showed its head and Anne hated that particular sentiment with a passion, so she quickly added 'But it was the only option. So, there!' It didn't make her feel better. Not because Legolas found Russel irritating (I mean, come on, who didn't??) or because Russel found Legolas unbearable (Well...who can argue with that?), but soley and merely and only because if her "little" lie faced the light of day, SHE herself would be the one to suffer. 'Is that selfish?' Anne thought, chewing softly on her stick. Regret made another attempt to come forth amongst the bushes. 'Not at all,' she thought quickly. 'It's only logical.'

"You met...Socrates?" Russel whispered with pure awe and broke her train of thought. She blinked and looked at the elves. Both had that irritable smile on their faces - something between a smirk and a grin. Russel cleared his throat, obviously disturbed by how impressed he was and concentrated on winding his fork into the lo mein when he spoke again. "What was he like?"

"Another sifu of sifus," grinned Haldir broader. He was as mean, cruel and ugly as Confucius. Only a bit younger."

"Alas," Legolas sighed and crossed his arms on his chest, giving Haldir an amused look. "At least he was not elaborating on frogs while explaining his philosophy."

Both Haldir and Legolas laughed at that and the human members of the table remained frozen, stunned by the sound of that incredible music. Other guests turned towards their table -women with intrigued smiles, men with frowns of surprise- but the elves seemed oblivious to it. Anne knew that their laughter was one distinctive characteristic of elves. She had always thought that weird. Until now, that is.

"And he used to beat me with that stick of his, old Confucius," Haldir chuckled, shaking his head.

"Why did you let him?" Anne said, still dumbfounded.

Haldir smiled. "Because," he sighed. "I bow to the mighty. And believe me, it was never hard to bow to Confucius."

"Or to Socrates," Legolas mused, gazing towards the bright windows. His fingers played with his green tea cup for a moment and the table hushed, lost in his concentration.

"Did he really drink that poison?"

Legolas blinked out of his reverie and turned to her. She could see that Russel was watching with silent curiosity as well. "He did," he said with both sorrow and bitterness. Anne exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding. "His resentment for the conservative regime in Athens was greater than his love for life."

They were silent for a moment. "I wish I could have met him," Russel mumbled suddenly. It surprised all of them -the longing in it- and by the looks of it, Russel himself, too. "I mean...the guy was a great man," he choked out.

"How come you know all these people?" Anne asked, glancing at the elves.

"It is easy when you know the means and easier if you have them. Time, of course, is essential, too," Haldir said gently. "You must have lots of it."

"No, I mean..." she sighed and placed the chopsticks into her plate as a waiter scurried over to replace it with a cup with steaming green tea. "We are here. We have the means. But how would we know whom to seek? Maybe there are a lot of interesting people out there right now," she said, waving her direction in the direction where the street should be. "But how would we know who they are?"

"Ah, I understand your question," Haldir said with a deft smile. "To that, I can only say that it was far easier in the past than it is now."

"Why so?"

"The world is a very crowded place now," he sighed, sipping from his tea. "For one thing. Also, the values and lifestyles of today are vastly different from the past. Before," he emphasized, locking eyes with her to make it clear that he meant the past, "people became famous and known for different skills. Surely money and wealth was important. But true fame -the kind that had pupils and seekers come from continents away in hope to meet the person- came with true skill. If you had stepped into the borders of Athens at that time, dear Anne, and spoken to anyone at a small gathering by a fountain -which the Greeks were so fond of- you would hear the name of Socrates and his disciples in less than five minutes. People were not famous because they only looked good back then," he said with a grimace of distaste. Anne, who knew his dislike for "pop culture" and the whole generation good looking actors and actresses, seriously lacking talent but nevertheless cheered by huge crowds, smiled slyly. "Looking good was not enough to earn fame and respect. They had to BE good at something."

Russel –another anti-pop culture person- nodded with consent. "So tell me," he said. "What kind of man was he?"

Haldir smiled and glanced at Legolas. "You should ask Lord Legolas," he said slowly. "They were rather close."

Russel gave a surprised glance at the Prince who seemed to deftly bloat with smugness. The elf opened his mouth and Anne leaned unconsciously forward in expectation.

The phone rang.

The quartet glanced at each other, surprised by the sound. Then finally Russel drew his cellphone from his back pocket, glanced at the unknown number, cursed softly under his breath thinking of the phone bill that would greet him next month just because his pals back in the States decided to say, and finally answered with a gruff "Yeah?"

"Russel? It's me."

For a moment it didn't sink in at all. He just froze, unable to believe that Irulan was speaking to him when he had been hunting her for several days now. "Irulan? Where are you?" he managed finally with obvious disbelief. The absurdity only grew further when Anne gasped and Haldir's head swept around to give him a surprised look. Legolas looked at him as if he meant to grab the phone himself, so he pulled back slightly and tried to focus on the conversation at hand.

Irulan's grin was perceptible from her tone. "In China, you fool." She sighed with the satisfaction of hearing his voice again. She had missed him so much! Unlike Anne, he hadn't meddled in her affairs and had been nothing but supportif. He had taken care of her while she was sick and had been abused by Legolas for her sake. Out of sheer want to talk to him again, she called him before she got on the train.

Russel hesitated, unable to come with an answer but Anne drew closer and waved her hand in urgency as if asking him to continue. "I know that," he concluded, glancing at the blonde woman. "I meant WHERE in China."

Irulan sighed and looked around. "I was in Shanghai for a few days. But now I'm on my way to Baeron's estate. I just wanted to call you and tell you that everything is fine. I'm having a great time."

Russel was silent for a moment and when he spoke there was a slight strain in his voice that she could not comprehend. "Good idea. I was beginning to worry."

"Is this a bad time?" she said and checked her watch. "Sorry...oh...it must be the wee hours of the morning, there. I forgot about that, sorry."

"No, no! It's okay." He halted again and the hiss of the bad connection remained. "I missed you," he said finally, softer.

Irulan sighed. "I missed you, too," she said solemnly. "Look, I want to apologize for departing like that. I was angry at Anne. And Le...everyone else. It wasn't you."

As absurd as it sounded, Russel felt damned good about the fact that she had called him and not any other. She hadn't called Anne. Not Haldir. And certainly not Legolas. He turned and glanced at the elf, but his face proved to be unreadable.

Russel's feelings for him were mixed to say the least. When he first came face to face with him at Irulan's doorstep, there had been a definite curiosity as well as...jealousy? Russel had denied it often enough, but the truth remained. He had felt jealousy. Not a lover's jealousy, for he had never thought of Irulan in that way - that spot had been reserved for Anne for a long time, now. More like a friend's or a brother's jealousy. Him and Irulan had been inseparable for many years now and she was his closest friend.

"What's up with that chick?" his friends used to taunt him in the bar as they threw darts and eyed him wearily.

Russel just used to scratch his neck and take a gulp from his beer. "She is not a chick," he would say then. Because Irulan wasn't. To him, she was everything but merely a 'chick'. She was the woman every man would love to have at his side - caring but not suffocating; honest but not brutal. Never as brutal as Anne, anyway. Irulan was never jealous of his girlfriends or would never judge his 'manly' silly habits. She would never try to be a 'woman' around him, and never once had tried to change him. Something that every other woman in his life had tried so painfully. She was simply there, supportive and sincere and many times he had wished that he would have felt for her what he felt for Anne. It would have been wiser, no doubt.

And so it was that while he was hitchhiking in Canada, Irulan had met this guy, this Heath Greenleaf, and everything had changed. For one thing, before him she had had boyfriends, of course, but they had never affected her as Heath had. She returned as a different Irulan. Broken and bitter she was - so different from the eager, curious, vivid woman she had been. Thankfully Irulan had a very good ability in rebouncing from hard surfaces and even the steely surface of LORD Greenleaf didn't kill her. Russel had been with her during that time and it had brought them closer than anything else had. He had waited in patience and prodded gently and she had told him of her story and how it had ended with Baeron. She didn't go into details - such as what kind of accident it was that brought upon the death of the man.

And then he had of course heard how Heath kept tracking her and all that and well...he had disliked it, to say the least. He had wished to encounter this Heath to give him a piece of his mind but it never happened. Heath had never come to her house before and neither did he show up where Russel was present. Usually he confronted Irulan alone or when she was with Anne. Understandable, since Anne was already on his side in the matter and probably had warned Heath that Russel wouldn't be.

Finally one summer day he had shown up on the threshold. Who could blame Russel of being jealous? Any sensible man would be jealous of someone like Heath. A rich man. A handsome man. A powerful man. The way Anne spoke of him, the world lay at his feet and he was some sort of demi-god. Russel had been satisfied to know that, unlike the world, Irulan was NOT crawling before him. But...would she? He hadn't told her, of course, because that would only make him look childish, but deep in his heart, Russel was afraid to lose her favor, just like a brother was afraid of another man showing up in her sister's life and stealing his time with her. He had acted indifferent - or had tried to, but he was not a fool. He knew that he was no match for this Greenleaf guy. Even before he knew that he was an elf and the head of the Circle, Russel had known that men like himself and men like Legolas were simply in different leagues. He had grace, manners, education, intelligence, money and power. All things that he lacked. Not that he felt worse for it - he liked himself well enough, but he knew that it would hurt him if Irulan would take the slightest step away from him just to spend a few more hours with Heath.

And now he wasn't even Heath. He was Legolas. The Legolas. 'I am doomed!' Russel had thought wryly as soon as he found out. 'I am doomed.' In Chinatown he had watched the fascinated expression of Anne and the deft signs of love on Irulan's face and he had known just in a matter of minutes that Legolas had them both and that the ties that bound them to him were far stronger than what Russel could ever accomplish - no matter how many years he would be given to befriend them.

Now, though, Irulan had called him. Only him. She had thought of HIM first and she had trusted HIM with her intimacy. It was silly and stupid to feel like a giant just because a woman had given him a call over his cellphone. But Russel rather liked feeling like a giant and he saw no need to suppress it. "Yeah, you had a right to be," he said, almost to himself. Then he cleared his throat. "So where is this estate?"

She grimaced and looked towards where the train was bound to show up. "In the south. I think it will take me several days to get there. Why Baeron chose to live in a Gorforsaken place like that, I don't know. But it's the quest that matters and so far, it's been fun," she added with enthusiasm.

"Oh," he said and this time the elapse in his speech was longer. For a moment she thought she had lost him, but then he spoke again. "You won't tell me where it is," he said, a bit hurt.

She blinked in surprise. "No, why wouldn't I? Hold on..." She searched her pockets for the piece of paper, found it and fished it out. "It's in...the Jianxi region. I'm probably spelling all this wrong, but anyway. They say it's really beautiful out there. I'm soon getting on a train that will take me as far as..." he hesitated, trying to read the word, "...Nancheng?"

"Oh...okay," he murmured. He felt the company leaning slightly towards him but Chinese people had the habit of talking and yelling like maniacs during lunch so it was impossible for them to hear a single word. He glanced at the Prince, who was seated across him as still as a statue. 'Good,' he thought distantly. 'He should know. He should know that I care for her and she cares for me. And that I am her friend while he is only someone who broke her heart.' It was a spiteful thing to think, but from where he stood, it was only true. Elf or not, Legolas or not, he had brought only grief and fear into her life. 'I can be a mere human and worse than most,' he thought, 'but at least she will remember the support, love and friendship I have offered. Irulan wouldn't forget. She would never forget.' He didn't look up to meet the gaze of the others and only thought of the woman at the other end of the line. "Irulan," he added then, with a more determined tone. "Be careful. I mean...you are out there alone and...damn, I wish you would have allowed me to tag along."

She smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry. But I had to do this alone. However," she added with a lighter tone, "we should do this together again sometime." She waited a moment before she said "Did you hear anything..." she cleared her throat, "I mean do you know if..."

"If what?"

"I know that...he was sick," she managed to choke out. "I mean...I'm sure he's all right now but...do you know maybe if..."

There it was again! She had called him and trusted him, but she HAD to ask about that damned elf! 'Love makes fools of all of us,' he thought ruefully and barely kept himself from glancing at Anne. 'God knows I am the biggest of all!' came the bitter addition in his mind. "You mean Legolas?"

Irulan did a sharp intake of breath. "Yes," she whispered finally.

"What? I can't hear you."

"Yes!" she said, louder. "Not that it matters," she said with exasperation. Then chewed her lip and said "I mean it matters of course...I just want to..." She exhaled in frustration. "Did you hear anything? Maybe Anne said something?"

"Legolas is fine," Russel said a moment later and it came out flat enough. The Prince, though, had guessed the context of the conversation and those blue eyes twinkled with sincere joy.

"Oh," she said, then cleared her throat again. "Good. Not that I care, you know..."

"Then why ask?" was the dry reply.

"Well...I just..." she didn't know how to continue, so she didn't. No wonder that Russel liked him even less now and who cared, anyway? Russel had been right from the beginning - the company of a creature like that wasn't for her. "I'm glad for him. And Amanda," she said, and her throat hurt just by saying it.

"Yeah," he snorted then. "Whatever." He felt Legolas shifting on his seat, but other than a drift of urgency and curiousity, there was nothing he could sense coming from him.

"Yeah," she sighed. "Whatever." She glanced at the approaching train in the distance. "Look...this conversation is a bit expensive and my train is about to arrive. I don't know if I can call you again, so don't worry, I'm doing fine, okay?"

Russel, sweating to find something to say that would keep Irulan from moving on and not knowing how to say it without raising her suspicion, swallowed with unease. "Irulan," he began and halted. He had no idea how to continue. The boring look he was receiving from Legolas was not helping either. She waited in silence and he racked his brains, trying to think of something. Finally he exhaled and merely said "Be careful, okay?"

There was a short silence and when she spoke again, her whisper seemed to reflect timidity. "Why do you say that?"

"Well...I mean...you should be, that's why," he said. He bit his lower lip and glanced at the rest of the company, locked to him. "Is there something you're not telling me?" he added then, suddenly feeling a slight dizziness.

"Umm...no, no," she said, but he knew her better than that.

"Irulan, you're killing me woman! Tell me what it is!"

Haldir tensed and Anne placed her hand on Russel's. The man gazed down and if not for his anxiety at the moment, would probably feel utter joy at that.

She took a deep breath. "It's nothing. I mean...a...a coincidence, that's all." Russel clenched his jaws, so she decided to continue. Just to ease his mind so he wouldn't jump to any more horrific explanations. "Okay...I stayed in this hotel yesterday. And...my bathroom didn't work..." a train hooted in the distance and she hesitated for a moment before she continued. "Yeah so I switched rooms with her. And she...she..." her voice was trembling now and unconsciously his knuckles whitened as he tightened his hold on the phone. "She was dead this morning, Russel." He knew then that his expression spoke of his terror because Legolas was on his feet in an instant and glared down at him as if that horrible situation –whatever it was- was Russel's fault. "They say she was drunk and got up to go to the bathroom and...hit her head. I saw a glimpse of her bathroom...there was blood everywhere Russel!"

She was crying now and although Russel thought he was stunned wordless, he heard his own voice soothing her. "Ssshhh....okay...calm down. She was drunk?"

"She...I...I don't think so!" Irulan cried. "We ate together and yes, she was drinking but she seemed better off than me."

"Maybe," he said, trying to force breath into his lungs while Legolas was killing him with mere glares, "maybe she drank some extra after you parted."

"Yeah...." she sniffed. "They found lots of empty bottles in her room. She took a deep shaky breath. "Anyway...we had dinner together just...before. I couldn't believe she was dead the next morning."

"Irulan, listen to me," Russel said, forcing his own voice not to tremble. "I think you might be in danger."

She laughed a little to that. It was a nervous chuckle. "Yes, mom." Her tone was softer when she continued. "I love you, Russel. I really do. You are the best friend one can hope to have."

He scratched his head and tried to fight off the grin appearing on his face. "I love you, too. Even though you are a pain in the neck. But that is another matter. I think you should stay put and..."

"What?" came her voice as the hoot of the train was repeated, rather loud this time. "I can't hear you!"

"Irulan!" he yelled into the phone and cursed softly. "Can you hear me?"

"Russel?" The sound was very audible this time and drowned her voice. "I have to go! I'll...I'll call you!" she screamed, her words hard to pick out. "Don't worry, I'm fine. Love you!"

She hung up then and he sighed with irritation, looking at his cellphone. A moment later it was snatched from his hands and he looked up, dumbfounded. Legolas was holding it and the look on his face was pure frostiness. "What the..." began Russel and was cut short by the other's seething interruption.

"With your permission..." He dialed a number, ignoring Russel's bafflement and waited before he spoke "Give me the location from where the last call was made to this number." He turned it off then and almost threw it at Russel. "

"What's up with the attitude?"

Legolas crossed his arms on his chest and gave Russel a long look. "What did she say?"

"She said the estate is in...Jiangzie or something."

"Jianxi," Haldir corrected and nodded for him to go on with a bemused expression on his face.

"Yeah, there. And that she is on the train to...Nepchal."

Haldir gave Legolas a surprised look. "But that is almost the opposite direction from where we are going."

Legolas clenched his jaws. "We were obviously misled."

"Why would John lie?" Anne asked.

"I don't know," Haldir mused. "I would think it was to protect Irulan...but that seems highly doubtful." He glanced at the Prince once more. "This is very strange."

"It is," Legolas whispered. The vision he had seen threatened to overcome him again and he hastily turned to Russel to prevent that. "What else?"

"Well..." Russel swallowed at the looks he received from the trio. "Okay, I am very worried now. And don't cross me when I'm worried," he said grimly.

"What is it?!" urged Anne with a hiss.

Russel pursed his lips for a moment. Then repeated what Irulan had told her.

He was glad that he was not the only one who looked terrified after that.

"Damn it all!" hissed Legolas and barely kept himself from punching down at the table. The table was silent and waited. "Get up!" he commanded and Russel found himself jumping to his feet before he could think about it. "We are leaving. NOW!"

He strode out the restaurant and the others hurried to follow, like a general and his own small private army.


	12. Defeat At Last

_I'm back! And ready to post the next chapter. For those who are wondering – the surgery went well and I have returned to torture Tolkien's soul a little further. _

_This chapter is not a great one in itself. But it is essential for the continuance and the flow of the story. After all, we can't be having angst and romance only now, can we?_

* * *

The train ran over hills and galloped along rivers. The sky was a ridiculous blue, full with impressive, majestic clouds that swam like lazy fish in a lake.

"This country," she scribbled in the shaking compartment in her journal, "smells of such ancient mysteries, that my heart grieves not to be able to see it all. Emperors have walked this soil in a time when all other civilizations had nothing but the most primitive of tools to offer. Astronomers watched the heavens while the rest of mankind only cared about the food in front of their noses."

China! So vast, so diverse, so different from anything she had been expecting. The modern life of New York faded away and became like a story from another planet, or another time. It wasn't real. Not real like China was. It was fake and silly now, the impressive buildings reminding her of matchstick structures. It was as new as a newborn baby compared to the massive history that this land held.

She tried to imagine herself having lived here. Maybe she did have a past life somewhere here in a village. Wouldn't that be ironic? To come back all these years later, not knowing why, but being pulled by her own past footsteps?

The train rattled on and Irulan gazed into her journal. Not for the firs time -and God knows, not the last, either- Legolas wandered into her thoughts. She looked at the deserted compartment with something like dread. Perhaps it was the fact that they had parted so bad, or maybe just the fact that the bond seemed to be diminished between them, a sudden sorrow descended onto her. It was sharp and painful. "I will never see Legolas again," she thought, and though she had thought the very same thing many many times before, this time it felt infinitely worse, because this time she BELIEVED it. This time she knew that Legolas would not turn up around the next corner or show up at the next store. It was over.

The human heart is a foolish, strange thing. It can beat for many years with one single fervent passion, only to discover that gaining it meant the end of the strive and desire and therefore, the end of all that was worth living. Such a mindset is alien to this century. If Irulan had lived in the Middle East hundreds of years ago, as poets sang in the streets of Baghdad or courtiers awaited a glimpse of their beloved for many days in the streets of India, she would have understood what it meant to yearn and to achieve. She would have grown up with stories like Leila and Mecnun, in which Mecnun loved Leila with all his heart and soul and ached with the single desire to set eyes on her. It would make sense that after years of effort and struggle, when Mecnun finally achieved his goal -Leila's hand- that he turned her down and walked into the desert never to be seen again. What was it that he had said? That he loved Love itself, and that Leila had only been a means in this passion of his. That he had disovered a higher love and would pursue it to his final days. That it wasn't Leila whom he had been yearning for, but the essence, the idea, the oh-so-precious pain and delight of Love itself.

She would have understood then. Now, she didn't. To her modern New York mind, Mecnun was a fool and Leila even a bigger one. It made no sense to change your mind about something when you have wasted an entire lifetime to gain it.

Just like it didn't make sense to yearn for Legolas when everything she had done so far was done to push him away.

And just because it didn't make sense, didn't mean that it didn't happen.

She sighed and realized that her eyes had become wet. In the loud solitude of her compartment, in a land foreign and alien to her, his absence was sharp and unforgiving. Suddenly she had an image of herself, living through each and every adventure all alone, just like now, without friends and without lovers, and the idea didn't have the appeal that it had, before.

There had been long breaks before – "intervals" during which Legolas had disappeared from sight. No wonder. He was an important man. 'Contrary to me,' she thought, grimly.

The world was his playground. His home. He had crossed it to and fro countless times. He had been to every country and more than a dozen times to most in different times. He had seen cities built from dust and sand, returned to them when they thrived like blooming wild flowers, and finally had watched them fade into the dust they had come from. He had sat with incredible people in the same room and had looked movers and shakers in the eyes. Through it all, he had acquired names and different looks as the times required and the people outside the Circle who had known his true nature and identity were only a handful.

His world –his true home that was Middle Earth- was dead now. Not a merciful, swift death it was, but a slow and torturous one. Legolas had watched it go with no one left to say goodbye to.

Immortality. The eternal desire of mortals. Of men and women who had no idea how long the years could be when one was an alien to every living creature around him. When life was a long string of acquired fake names and a big lie. When the truth has become fable and myth and merely a material for fantasy.

Irulan sighed and gazed into the impossibly green hues of the nearby woods. To understand Legolas was beyond her. But to symphatize with his chronic loneliness was.

It was at that moment that Irulan decided to forgive Legolas. Not in the manner she had forgiven him before. Not by telling herself that he had no fault and that it was the circumstances and this and that. Not by finding logical explanations, which her heart had refused to digest. Not that fake sort of forgiveness that starts and ends on the tongue. She forgave him with her heart and ultimately. And it was easy.

Maybe it had just to be done at a certain time and a definite mindframe. maybe it was because she was pulled into such melancholy. Or maybe the feeling of guilt fed on her psyche until this day it became too heavy a burden to carry. Whatever the reason, forgiveness -utter, complete and absolute forgiveness- came easy. Surprised, she stilled and tried to sort out her sentiments. Nothing. She felt light and happy. "Legolas," she thought, then decided to say it out loud to make it stronger, "Legolas, I forgive you. It is over." In her mind, she threw down the sword and it landed in front of his black suede boots, on the withered grass and a soft clank echoed in the valley. "I will not fight you any longer."

Legolas looked up at her, a bit surprised, mildly suspicious and very confused. He gazed down at the weapon once more, then back up at her. Irulan smiled a rueful smile at his wariness. She took a deep breath and shifted to stand straighter, gazing around her. The valley was drowned in knee-high grass and sharp blue hills overlooked it on both sides. Narrow and deep, it cut through the womb of the earth like a scar. The sun bled on them as if trying to make up for the effect of blood. The wind blew and their hair sailed to the right. A hesitated another moment, then threw his own slim and curved blade on top of the other. "And I, you," he said softly.

She looked at him for a long moment. His right shoulder had a nasty cut and bled crimson into his dark tunic. Another would stood on his left thigh and she knew by the way he was standing that that one was hurting, though his face said nothing in regard to it. She knew that she would have won if the battle had continued, that Legolas was wounded too badly to continue and that his army meant nothing without him. All the better reason to stop. "I give up," she said softly, with a bitter note.

"As do I," he replied.

A moment passed. "So who wins?" Irulan said finally, just to break the heavy silence, drowned by the hiss of the grass under the assault of the breeze.

Legolas, his face still infused in disbelief, gave a small smile in return. "Nobody wins a battle," he said finally. "But...since we both stopped, we can't have lost it, either."

"I forgive you," she said again, looking him straight in the eye. Legolas said nothing and merely gazed at her with something like disbelief and relief at the same time. "If for nothing else, I want to thank you for the short time we wandered on this world together, hand in hand, Legolas," she sighed then and looked into the bloody horizon once more. "Life is so short."

"Or so long," he whispered, almost as if in pain.

"On this trip to the unknown, you passed by me, and you shared my days. When all else fails and the universe collapses into nothing, this alone should remain. You were by my side and I by yours. Everything else is foolish, silly and human. Only this is worthy of remembrance."

He held out his hand and more by instinct than thought, Irulan lay hers into his. Legolas grasped it gently and pulled it up, laying it on his heart. Her heavy metal glove touched the dark suede tunic, spotted with dirt and blood, and felt an imaginary thumping of his heart. The armies stood, frozen into a lifeless picture of violence. They were neither breathing, nor moving and seemed to be more two-dimensional and picturesque than something real with substance. She glanced around at the soldiers, stoned in a dance of horror. The furios look on their frozen faces was reminiscent of horrible tribal masks. She took a ragged breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were all gone and herself and Legolas stood alone in the valley. They were not needed any longer, so they vanished as if they had never existed.

She glanced up at the elf again and found a weary smile on his lips. Another breeze came up and again their hair danced - silver and black. "Was there ever a fight?" she whispered almost with amusement. The valley looked as serene as if no foot had touched it for many millennia.

"I can not recall," was his equally soft reply, accompanied with a smile. His fingers closed on hers and she thought she could sense their warmth underneath the metal glove. She closed her eyes again, but he spoke up with a tinge of urgency. "Do not send me away." Irulan sighed and glanced at him once more. He looked so beautiful, so pure. It must have been a feature of his kind, for no one could look this beautiful after so much pain and effort. "Let me stay," he whispered, locking his eyes with hers.

"After all the battle and the pain?"

Legolas looked around at the untouched valley. "What battle?" he sighed finally. And once again eye to eye "What pain?"

Irulan smiled and inhaled the sharp, fresh scent of the grass. She shook her head with disbelief. "Do you EVER give up, Legolas?"

"I believe I just did," he said softly and already his voice said how he was shedding his surprise.

She gazed down at her boots, not certain where to go from here. His fingers slid through her hair then and he caressed her cheek. "I don't want to be your enemy any longer," she said. Her voice shook in the gentle breeze and seemed almost inaudible.

"You never were, Irulan."

"I mean," she sighed and bit her lip to prevent further sentimentalism. Her heart ached with strange emotions. Victory and relief, along with a deep, wretched sorrow. "I mean," she tried again, finally finding the heart to look him in the eye, "I want to...I don't know. I don't know what I want! Why can't we be friends?"

Legolas smiled a rueful mile, still caressing her cheek. "Because I am weak," he said finally. "It would be foolish to say that I will settle for friendship when my heart burns for you as it does. It would be a lie." Irulan nodded and felt herself even closer to tears than before. "When you conquered my castle," he said then quickly, "did you think it was my defeat?" He gave her a long look. "Did you think I felt grief, anger or sorrow?"

"I don't know," she mumbled, frowning. It was strange that she had never thought of this. "What DID you feel?"

He smiled again and the sun seemed no brighter than this smile. "Peace," he said simply. "Salvation. Relief." Irulan cocked her head and gave him a disbelieving look. As if to confirm his words, he nodded. "Yes. And I would have you conquer it again, if you are willing."

She blinked with surprise. "But...why?"

He shrugged, cupping her cheek. "It is the only way for both of us to win." She had no words to say so he continued, inching closer. "Be the victor then, Irulan," he said slowly. "And my savior once more."

It seemed ridiculous. It seemed overly dramatic. Something that only Legolas could say and not look absurd or silly for it. She smiled to herself and opened her eyes. The blue on green scenery continued its waltz by the train. "I forgive you," she mumbled into the crisp, clear day. "It wasn't your fault. None of it was." She sighed again and bit her lip. "Who am I to expect perfection from another? I made countless mistakes and I blame Legolas for things that were not in his hands." Why would it be so wrong to give up this meaningless battle anyway? He was an incredible man who wanted nothing but to be with her. Was it pride? Stubbornness? Sheer shame?

She took a deep breath and sat up, gazing with more determination towards the trees. "I forgive him," she said, a bit louder. Pride or shame, whatever it was, shook with a tinge of protest and she repeated the words to echo her determinism. "I DO forgive him. And what's more, once I get back to New York, I will call him and apologize."

'You seem to have forgotten what that accomplished the last time you tried,' came the smirking reply.

"Can't say I didn't deserve it," she sounded, her voice hard. "I'll call anyway. And if he slams it into my face once more, well…I'll keep calling until he grows tired and accepts my apology."

A low chuckle rose in her mind. "Hard to imagine. But let us assume he DOES accept. Then what?"

This was the tricky part. Irulan took a deep breath, closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself and Legolas as friends. The doorbell rings and Irulan gets up to get it. Oh what a surprise! It's him. He looks absolutely breathtaking in his black woolen sweater and his dark cotton pants. His clear blue eyes twinkle in his pale face. She smiles with pleasure and invites him in. Wait…would she embrace him? Too intimate. Would she shake hands? Too formal. Anyway…he comes in and picks the armchair across her. He asks about business and Anne and she asks about how the world fares these days. No…that seemed so silly. So unnatural. And then his cellphone rings and Amanda is asking what time he will return home.

"Damn!" She barely kept herself from jumping to her feet and opened her eyes in haste. "Damn!" Her inner voice chuckled with delight. This, indeed, was not something Irulan could live with. It was worse than being without Legolas. A dozen times worse. Irulan didn't believe in the sort of "civilization" where she would sit with Amanda and have tea and talk about Legolas. No…she'd rather be primitive and base then be that sort of "civilized".

"I don't know how I will do it," she said finally, taking a shaky breath. "But I WILL apologize and I WILL try to mend what I broke. Even if it means goodbye forever after that – which, probably it will. I will not be a woman who has ruined someone's heart and has turned away to live her own little, selfish life."

The determination she found in her heart was soothing to say the least. Yes, against the fact that she was stupid, stubborn and vain, Irulan was no coward. No doubt, Legolas would make her regret her decision. He would banter her with such words, that it would take fierce strength not to withdraw with hurt and despair. But she would simply have to face his onslaught. Because after having taken her insults for many months, it was only fair.

She took another deep breath and felt the weight of remorse leaving her. A few more days only. A week or two at most. Then she would return to New York and would call him as soon as she got her hand on her cellphone at home. She gazed out the window and thought as an addition "IF I ever get home."

* * *

"So what's up with Amanda?" Anne said to Legolas as they stepped out of the car.

Haldir blinked in surprise, turned to Russel, who shared a startled look with him. The same expression of disbelief was on Legolas' face. Consequently, both Haldir and Russel shared the simultaneous thought of disappearing from the grounds and turned away, smoothly walking away. Anne remained, staring up at the blue gaze of the elf. "Pardon me?" was all he managed to say in the end. Thankfully it didn't sound as baffled as he felt at the moment.

"Do you love her?" she countered, doing her thing – crossing her arms on her chest and raising an eyebrow.

He was tempted to utter a higher pitch of "pardon me?", but clenched his jaws to prevent it. Instead he turned –though a rude move towards a woman- and began to walk in the direction the other two men disappeared to.

"Aha! You don't answer!" she exclaimed, catching up with him.

"Because it does not concern you," he seethed, keeping his eyes ahead.

"Of course it does!" She received a dangerous glare for that. "I mean...I am your friend, Legolas. No?" she added with haste.

"So you say," was the groan of a reply that stank of suspicion.

Legolas was in an awfully foul mood after the Circle had called to confirm the death of an Ellen Beatrix Smilees who was physically too similar to Irulan for her own good and happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and the death of John Cosgrove, who was stabbed twice in the middle of a crowded bar. Though perhaps rather innocent alone, taken together these incidences were more than plain a sign for the fact that something terrible was going on and it had to do with Irulan. The Prince had seemed shut off and distant after that, speaking only a few dry words and avoiding the rest of the band persistently. She was tired of his worry and his anxiety and more than eager to face the heat of his fury, if this was the price to be paid to lure the beast out of his cave.

"She doesn't love you, you know," was Anne's dry statement.

"Let me guess – but Irulan does." It came out more bitter than he intended it to.

"Yes she does."

"And that must be why she has rejected me, ridiculed me, hurt me, refused me, toyed with me."

"I agree that she can be difficult at times," Anne said, panting from the effort of keeping up with the wide strides of the elf. She saw the smirk that bloomed on his face at her undersatement, so she hastily continued. "But I told you you shouldn't listen to her! You should have grabbed her, kissed her and carried her away!"

"Enough, Anne!" he groaned in frustration.

"You don't love Amanda," she tried, softer.

"Maybe I do," he said coolly. "You can not know what's in my heart."

"I know you are better than that," scoffed Anne.

"Maybe I'm not," was the tired and impatient reply.

"Legolas...I saw you." He turned to give her a blank look. "I saw you when you returned from Vienna with Irulan. And I see you now. I have eyes, you know."

"Apparently," was his groan of a reply as he widened his steps.

"You were happy then. Really happy. And so was she!"

"I can tell you one thing about the past," he seethed suddenly, stopping in his tracks so aprubtly that Anne involuntarily took another two steps before she could stop and turn to face him. "It is gone FOREVER!" he hissed, his eyes blazing. "Gone! Dead!" They stared at each other for another moment. "It never comes back," he added with a whisper.

"Good!" shouted Anne, surprising him yet again. Another moment of staring with disbelief and confusion. "That leaves more room for the future!" The elf took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking away. "Legolas-..." she began more tentatively.

"We have no future," he said briskly.

"Then why are you here?!" she exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "Why are you in this godforsaken...." her eyes wandered around, trying to find a word, "this....this...farm!? Huh? Why?!" Upon uttering the word, she halted, blinked, and took another glance around, lowering her arms with bafflement. "Why ARE we on a farm?"

"I care for Irulan. That much is obvious," he countered, taking a step towards her. "But I am not without pride. Or without intellect! I will not throw myself to the ground anymore."

"Fine Throw HER then!"

Legolas gave Anne an unreadable look. If she could read elvish expressions, she would see bafflement. As it was, she read nothing. "There is no need for that. Such things should grow natural. I don't believe in forced love."

"Not forced," moaned Anne, waving away the word with distaste. "GUIDED," would be a better word." Legolas' eyebrow rose in a peculiar arch. "And anyway," she said with haste, "why are we on a farm, again?"

"Love needs no guidance," he said dryly and walked around her, continuing his stride. "We need a means of transportation. Or do you intend to cross China on foot?"

"Love DOES need guidance!" Anne said, running to catch up again. "It can go astray – like everything else. And what better guide than you, Legolas? You have guided humanity for years."

"Don't be ridiculous," he managed to reply a moment later, "That is different."

"How so?" Anne smirked.

"It is my job!" Legolas countered, a slight temper in his voice. "It is what I do. My purpose. My reason fo being here in the first place!" Anne kept her eyes on him as they walked on, towards the awaiting couple of Russel and Haldir. "There are no feelings involved. No personal fears or desires. It is a responsibility I took and do it because I am good at it."

"Bullshit!" This time Legolas DID stop. And for the first time, Anne bit her tongue, thinking herself plain stupid. This was a creature that deserved nothing other than utter respect. He was a god compared to her – with years of experience in war, intrigue, ruling, and whatelsenot. "Sorry, Legolas," she whispered, paling a little at his expression. Haldir and Russel, who were close enough to hear the conversation held their breath.

"That's the second time you offend me," Legolas growled, taking a step towards her and looming over her. Anne gulped. "You tread on dangerous ground. My patience has limits."

"I apologize," she breathed. "Really. I...forgive me. That was very rude." Legolas didn't move a muscle, looking down at her with a frosty expression. "I was trying to say...you didn't do it because of any of those reasons." He kept looking. "You did it for a friend."

After he overcame the shock of her words and the meaning sank in, his eyes instantly turned to Haldir. The elf only ever so slightly shook his head, looking as baffled as he did. "Nobody told me," Anne sighed in frustration. "But I read the books, you know. Those...and the ones in the archives. And I came to know you, Legolas. You are not a fan of Man, so to say." She took a deep breath, glanced around, squinting her eyes in the bright summer sun. "And yet...you stay. You fight. You struggle."

Nobody spoke. A strange embarassment overcame Legolas. As if he had been exposed. As if his skin had been torn off and he was left under the blaring sun of China. 'Humans!' he thought, unable to think of anything else for a moment. So incredibly unpredictable – even to him; the master of prediction. So deliciously fragile and yet...sensationally strong. He had no answer, so he chose silence.

Anne looked at him for a long moment. "This is the man you are, Legolas," she said softer, her tone far more gentle. "I am not stupid – I know that you are an excellent warrior, a suberp tactician, an amazing leader. But you are a friend FIRST." To his surprise, she took a step towards him and reached up to place her hand on his shoulder. For no apparent reason, he remembered the day Irulan had "undressed" him like this in Rome when she had dazzled him with her observation and strength of thought. Many times before he had observed reasons why Irulan and Anne were such good friends. But the more time he spent with either of them, the more reasons he seemed to find. "I am a friend like that as well. Or try to be," she added with a frustrated sigh. Still neither Haldir nor Russel spoke, remaining fixed on the duo. "But more than that...you, too, have a friend in me," she said, gazing into his blue orbs.

A long moment passed. None of them spoke. None of them moved. Legolas felt torn between hurting Anne really badly, turning on his heels and walking away, and embracing her. The peculiar embarassment that had overcome him a moment ago cindered and lingered on. 'How on earth do you deal with women?' he thought deftly. Once again, he had no answer to that. In the end, he did neither of his primary motives and only said "Thank you." True enough, he tried to free his tone of emotions. Nevertheless it had a husky and sensitive edge to it.

Anne sighed in relief and nodded gently. She had been really intimidated when Legolas had blazed his eyes at her like that. Rightfully, too! 'I have to be more careful' she thought to herself. All this intrigue, scheming, planning was getting too complicated. Even for her.

"No problem," she said and smiled once more. "Now...." her eyes darted around, taking in the baffled state of Haldir and Russel, staring down at her along with the Prince, "...what has transportation to do with a farm?"

It was his turn to smile with confidence, almost feral. "I thought you would have figured that out by now," was all he said, his tone low.

"N-not really," stammered Anne, suddenly very unsure. To her irritation, both Haldir and Russel picked up the grin as well. "Come now," she said then, chuckling nervously. "Whatever happened to cars, trains and buses? Hell...even bicycles?!"

"Not where we are going," mused Legolas and walked around her, continuing his stroll towards the gate of the barn where someone was waiting for their approach.

"How do you know?" Anne said, slightly bewildered now, joining the march.

"I can guess where Baeron would choose to live," he said dismissively.

"Horses are fast on any terrain and easy to maintain," Haldir explained gently. "You can go at your own pace and don't have to obey no schedule."

"They are also very uncomfortable," moaned Anne. "I should know. My parents made me take riding lessons when I was young."

"It is the best option," Legolas said, then took the last steps to bow to the Chinese man waiting for him. The other did the same, and a handshake between them followed. After a short Chinese conversation they were led inside.

"I am not much of a rider," Russel groaned in disdain.

Legolas' lips curved up deftly to that, though he kept his eyes ahead. "Too bad," was all he said. And the tone was far from sad.

They entered the stable that was full with incredibly beautiful horses. They seemed a little different from the ones Anne had seen. A little shorter and more muscular, but also oddly very striking and strong looking. Legolas had a long Chinese conversation with the man who was watching them with a sly smile, asking how the business was and how his days were faring. The man guided this new rich western client to his best stock and watched with a pleasant grin as the blonde man sighed with approval at a grey spotted mare, gently stroking her neck. The horse seemed very fond of this treatment and leaned her head to the caress of the man, snorting softly.

Legolas smiled to himself and petted the animal, stroking its long mane. "/What a beautiful beast you are/," he whispered in Sindarin. The animal neighed as in approval and he chuckled. 'I should really get another horse farm,' he mused to himself. He was awully fond of animals –especially horses- and only shunned the idea because he could not find it in himself to lead a "settled" life, so to say. True enough, he stayed in certain locations for several years, but time seemed to fly by so quickly and before long, it was the dreadful moment of goodbyes again. But that was not the real reason he had avoided things of that nature. The real reason was that he associated such things with a more... "normal" life. A life that spoke of a true spouse. And he seemed to be the eternal bachelor, so it was hard to think of himself as anything but a wanderer, aimlessly drifting about.

He had thought of such a lifestyle after Irulan had entered his life. It hadn't been the first time he had had fantasies of settling down, but it was certainly the one he had really and truly believed in with a surprising fervor. Unlike all the other women that had entered his life at one point or another, Irulan knew who he really was. It was a fantastic relief to know that he wouldn't have secrets from her and that he wouldn't have to lie to her. And it was an incredible solution to the solitude of his soul. And most important of all, he had loved her with a passion he thought himself incapable of. Enough to make the impossible possible. Enough to lay his world aside and stride into a new one.

He glanced about and smiled ruefully. 'At least enough to stride into a stable in China,' he thought to himself. He sighed again and was about to call for Haldir to ask his opinion regarding the necessary preparations for the trip ahead of them when the strangest sensation swept over him.

Legolas stilled instantly. And listened. To what, he could not tell. A call perhaps? Did someone just call his name? Did he hear a word? The animal beside him snorted quietly and Legolas whispered a few soothing words, and patted it some more to still it.

Nothing.

And yet, he didn't let go. He stood, ignoring the sound of the horses and his friends around him, turned his face instinctively to the south and listened.

Nothing.

Or maybe a little, tiny something.

Not a call. No words. More like a feeling. Like mist coming over the valley it came to him, slowly and gossamer. Only a poet could have sorted out the terms to describe it. Legolas was no poet. He was something better - an elf. He inhaled the sharp, fresh scent of the forest and let his heart tune into this invitation that was laid before him. What was it?

Peace.

He knew then that what was broken and weak was restored. That the invisible ties that hung him to Irulan had exerted the tiniest pull if only to prove that they existed still. Or rather, existed once more. He inhaled another shaky breath. Ah, the sweet water of relief! The surge of hope! The mad joy of chance!

He didn't know how and even less why, but something of utter value was restored to him. Something that had been torn from him and had left him gaping, empty, shell-like. Something that meant the world. Something he should have never lost in the first place. He took another shaky breath, his surroundings forgotten. "Irulan," he whispered, his eyes glazed, his hands resting on the speckled neck of the animal. "My bond." He blinked, feeling small and weak. The perfect astonishment of the most wonderful surprise was on him and it made his head spin. "My bond," he said again, so much in need of, but also so afraid of believing it. "Irulan." He smiled at the animal as it neighed in approval. "My Irulan," he said finally, his emotions swelling in him impossibly and leaving room for nothing else.

* * *

Okay...now this was NOTHING like her Europe trip! Irulan squinted and looked ahead out of the dusted window -the little winding dirt road seemed to stretch into infinity. The bus shook so heftily that it took real effort not to bang her head against the pane. Some child was crying fervently somewhere in the back seats. Chinese people were incredibly LOUD – the conversation was filling up the whole tiny atmosphere of the bus.

The woman next to her grinned a toothless grin and offered her an apple. Irulan smiled back, then shook her head. The woman insisted, pushing the fruit underneath her nose. She hesitated, suddenly unsure if it would be offensive not to accept it. After another slight reluctance, Irulan smiled shyly, and took the fruit from her. The old woman yelled something in Chinese then, but she could only shake her head, then shrug to indicate that she doesn't understand.

"Where you go?" a young woman intervened from behind them.

"To visit a friend," Irulan said to her. She translated.

"Where?"

Irulan pulled out the folded map from her jeans, unfolded it and handed it over. "This village," she said, raising herself a little to point it out. The village was not exactly where she was going, but his estate should be close. Unfortunatley the bus shook heftily and she ended up banging her head on the window, collapsing back to her seat. The old woman laughed wholeheartedly at that, and so did the younger one. Confused how to react, she rubbed her head and chuckled along.

"Long way," the young woman said finally, handing her back the map.

"Yes," she sighed, once again turning to gaze out the window. "You have no idea."

They exchanged some more sentences and laughed a second time when Irulan's apple was hurled from her hand and had to be retrieved with much trouble from underneath a passenger seat. After that she felt tired. All this constant traveling was not easy on her body. So she tried to find the most suitable position –and it took her no less than 45 minutes- and dozed off into an uncomfortable nap.

She was lost in a dream that concerned both Anne and Russel when a hefty jerk pulled her out from it. She was flung agains the seat in her front and fell back with a soft thud. She blinked several times, trying to wake up. To be in China in a bus that seemed to be ready to fall apart any moment, was not something easily registered. She moaned and massaged her face, and that was when she heard the shouting.

She blinked again, then sat up further, trying to see what the whole tumult was about. A group of men were blocking the road. They were talking ardently to the bus driver who had joined them. Half the people in the bus seemed to have spilled out. Eager to stretch her legs, Irulan took her backpack –just in case someone decided to be greedy- and walked down the backdoor. For a moment she just stood there, bending her knees and feeling the heat of the early summer sun on her face.

Too soon she was pulled out of her trance. A hand landed on her shoulder and shook it. Irulan turned around, facing a woman whom she recognized to be the one sitting behind her and speaking a broken English. "Go!" the woman hissed, then shook her some more.

Perplexed, the smile vanished from her face. "What?"

"Go!" The woman pushed her slightly and in her bafflement, Irulan fell a step back. 'Is she mad?' she thought, and remained frozen. "Go! Looking for you!" Again she was pushed back while the woman fervently looked towards the men, then back at Irulan.

Irulan followed her gaze to the men who now seemed to be walking towards the bus. Before she could think of what this could be about, she was grabbed by the collar and hauled to the rear of the bus. How such a tiny creature had managed to do that, was beyond her. "Hey!" she managed to squeak, but the woman had no intentions of listening.

"Go! Men dangerous!" She fluttered her hands, eager to explain herself. It meant nothing to Irulan. Until she recognized the symbol for gun. That finally woke her up.

"No...you must be mistaken. I mean why would they...."

She was interrupted with a string of Chinese from the woman that sounded like curses from the tone of it. One final push, away from the bus and the woman was gone. She remained there, a strange pulse of fear running through her. It was impossible.Who would look for her? Especially men with gun! Thankfully her body moved by itself, and before she could make a decision, she found herself gliding into the woods that ran by the road. "This is so stupid!" she mumbled to herself. "Who on earth would look for you?! Go back you fool! If you miss the bus, that'll be your end!"

And then she heard it. The gunshot. On normal terms that meant nothing. It held no explanation as to why they would be looking for her or who these people were. But it was enough to make her run. Without a look over her shoulder, Irulan began to run as fast as she could.

She ran and ran, the forest swishing by her, tearing at her clothes, her hair, her face. Her backpack slapped her back with a painful thud, but this was lost on Irulan. Her clumsy feet, used to well paved city streets stumbled on root and stones and twice she fell. But she picked herself up again and continued to run. If such times were moments when people who had some dwindled hero blood in their veins proved it by being calm and calculating, Irulan had no speck of hero blood in her. She was afraid and her fear was of no comparison to anything she had felt before. Like a giant, menacing beast it hunted her through the maze of trees, breathing on her neck and she was running from that beast as much as she was running from whoever had shot that gun.

And finally, after what seemed like eternity to her and was more like twenty minutes in real time, she collapsed against a bark, her lungs and muscles on fire. She breathed long, painful gasps of precious air and slowly sunk to the floor, clutching at her knees. Several minutes she sat there, unable to hear anything other than the wild thumping of her own heart. If anyone was following her, she wouldn't have heard a single shout - so wild was the beating of her own pulse in her ears.

The absurdity of the situation slowly took a hold of her. Her naive city mind refused to accept the oddness of recent events and immediately took the chance of her rest to reason its way out of the mess. 'This is crazy!' she thought in between loud gasps, 'There must be a mistake!' Her fear rang too loud for any persuasion of that idea, but she forced her heart to calm down further and insisted. 'Stupid woman! Why did you run because someone shoved you into the trees?!' The idea was like cool water to the flame that her body was at the moment. "True," she mumbled to herself. "True." There must have been a misunderstanding. She had no idea why the bus was stopped or who those men had been looking for. But certainly it couldn't be her! Irulan had no reason to be pursued. Especially to be harmed. She wrote articles for magazines, for God's sake! And yes, some of those had touched on some rather peculiar people or delicate subjects and had been more on the political side. But they hadn't been dangerous enough for anyone to come looking for her in China!

The reasoning eased her heart immensely. She opened her eyes and looked around. Nobody was following her. The drumbeat in her chest softened somewhat and the stillness of the summer forest reached out to her. She took a deep breath, feeling the distant burning of her lungs. Irulan had no enemies. Stepping on the tail of some collagues didn't make people chase you halfway around the globe. She had no money. She hesitated. Could it be that anyone had discovered that all of Baeron's posessions were transfered to her? Impossible! Only the Circle knew of this matter and certainly no one from that counsel would try to kill her for that. 'Yes but what if someone outside the Circle found out and wanted the money?'

She wiped her nose and stared up at the branches that hung lazily in the summer heat. It was absurd but not completely improbable. The idea brought even a more uncomfortable one - what if someone was aware of her relationship with Legolas and wanted to kidnap her to threaten him? Now THAT made absolutely sense. She sat up a little and placed her back to the tree. Legolas was an important man - not only as the head of the Circle. He was a rich businessman with much influence and incredible investments all around the globe. Anyone who kept a close enough eye on him could see his affiliation with her easily enough. After all, he had visited her numerous times in New York and well, for anyone who kept track of such things, it was easy to see that he had a rather strong 'liking' for her. She combed a shaking hand through her hair and swallowed. It seemed more than likely. Haldir had mentioned before that there had been numerous assasination or kidnapping attempts on almost all elves through the course of history. Even though their true identities remained hidden, it was not hard to see how rich or influential they were and if not for their experience and their utter care, many would have probably ended up killed by humans for petty reasons such as vengeance, changing the tide of a war, or plain robbery.

That was the only logical explanation and the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Only someone who was messing with people of Legolas' scale would deem Irulan important enough to track her down in rural China. Only someone like that would have the resources and the people to locate her in the first place. The hot breath of fear on her neck returned. She stood up slowly on her shaking legs and once again listened. Nothing. 'Maybe,' she thought then, licking her lips, 'I am being too imaginative. Maybe there really was a misunderstanding. I mean...that woman hardly knew English. Maybe she meant something else...and I gallopped into the woods for no reason!'

She exhaled and moaned, wiping her face. That option seemed to be even worse than the Legolas related paranoia. After all, if that was really the case, she had run very far from the bus and not to mention the road for nothing. 'And,' Irulan realized suddenly with mounting terror, 'I doubt that I can find my way back even if I want to.'

"Oh my God!" she whispered into the thick silence of the forest. "I am lost!" She took a few steps away from the tree and turned in all directions, trying to determine where she had come from. Maybe it was her panic at the current moment or maybe it was the fact that Irulan had never been into such thick woods before in her entire life, but all directions seemed absolutely the same. She shifted restlessly on her feet. "Don't be stupid!" she said out loud, eager to convince herself. "I...I can find my own footsteps!" A meager relief came with the thought. For once, her clumsiness and trampling like an elephant through the trees would be useful! She wiped the sweat off her face and adjusted her backpack. Yes, she wold locate her footsteps and follow them back. 'What if the bus is gone?' she thought then with dismay and it forced another quiver of fear into her heart. Hastily she stomped out that option. "I'll just wait for another passing vehicle," she said out loud once more. She checked her pocket and thankfully the piece of paper that had the written Chinese directions for her destination was still there.

And just when she exhaled with relief, she heard something. Irulan stilled instantly and held her breath. Nothing for a few seconds but immediately afterwards the unmistakeable sound of yelling. Then a shout of an answer from another voice. "Oh my God!" she whispered the second time. They were coming after her! She imagined seeing a rustle in the distance to her right and without another attempt at rationalizing, turned and began to run in the opposite direction. The idea that the men were merely coming to rescue her after she had made such a run into the woods due to a misunderstanding occured to her, but the certainty that this was not the case bloomed in her heart with such ferocity that Irulan didn't wait to check on that information. 'They will find me!' her mind yelled as the dreadful beast of fear threw another shadow on her like a giant dragon in the sky, chasing his prey. 'They only have to look for my clumsy tracks and they will find me in a matter of minutes!'

She ran faster. Or tried to. 'Legolas!' she thought with desperation. 'Legolas, help me!' In her frenzy and fear, it seemed to be the most natural wish. Even though Legolas was in New York in Amanda's arms and could never hear her - forget about reaching her. Even though Legolas was the apparent reason for her being chased now like some animal. Even though she had spat bitter words at him and he had returned the favor with even harsher ones.The world around her spun in a wild show of green, blue and brown and a deep laughter filled the skies.

The laughter grew more and more and became a roaring narrow strip of water, sunken in the bowels of the earth. She skirted right at the edge of it and stared down stupidly at the swirling blue and white. For any casual traveler it was perhaps not as horrible as it looked. On the contrary, if Irulan had come across it after a lazy stroll in the woods, she would have found the untouched cool waterside rather beautiful and refreshing for a hot summer day. As it was, it was cutting through her way of escape like the blue steel of a sharp knife.

She stood, perplexed and mad with fear. A rough sound came from behind her and Irulan glanced to see three men running towards her through the maze of barks. She looked down again. 'I can't jump!' she thought, all the will to survive crashing at her brain like the desperate waves of a stormy sea. Her eyes wandered over the scattered boulders sitting in the seemingly icy water. 'I can't jump! I'll spill my brains out into the river!'

And yet her feet moved and it was only when she was already in air, plummeting towards the ribbon below that she found the voice to scream out her terror. Still in disbelief that she had actually jumped, Irulan fought needlessly against the quickly approaching water. Only a moment later she was greeted by its icy touch. Thousands of needles stung into her face and her skin and she screamed underwater with the shock of it. The river swallowed her voice as well as her body, pulling her down. The weight of her backpack was like lead on her shoulders and she was smashed twice against rock before she could brush it off. Then she was swirled about so many times that she lost the distinction of up and down, of air and water. The world was a cold, liquid hell and she washed through it like a crushed leaf. When she hit a third rock, at last someone turned off the lights and the cold. And it was the kindest thing anyone had done for her on this entire trip.

* * *


	13. Through the Dust and Dark of the Heart

_It was an awfully long break. I am truly sorry for that. For a story that is already finished, it needs a surprising amount of editing and re-writing._

_Sigh…how lucky I am that people ignore my shortcomings._

_I was shocked to see how many new people have joined to read this story. And very pleasantly surprised. Welcome all and make yourself at home._

* * *

"I hope we can find her soon," Russel murmured, his eyes on the hissing flames of the fire.

"You and Irulan are close friends," Legolas said suddenly.

The man blinked, waking from his daze. He looked up to see the elf fixed on him. His elegant form was outlined against the beautiful Chinese sky dotted with stars. None of the impatience that he had had all day showed in his stance, now. It had been hard to admit that he was about to collapse from his horse by the time they reached this stop. Russel was not vain and he knew that he was no match for elves in stamina. Still, he had clenched his teeth and held on until he saw lightning in front of his eyes every time the animal took another step. Finally Anne had been the one to moan and whimper and beg Legolas to give a break. The Prince had been unrelenting. 'If you can not keep up, stay behind,' was all he had said. Neither would he have slowed down and relented if Haldir hadn't pulled up beside Legolas and engaged in what seemed like a fight. In Elvish. Russel had stared at the first in an elvish fluent conversation as well as the first argument he had witnessed between the usually stoic and loving friends. Haldir had won eventually, but he, too, didn't seem to be happy with the idea of rest. So Russel and Anne, feeling like they were annoying children that needed to be taken care of and had no place in this rescue mission, had glided off the saddles with a sigh and volunteered for picking the wood. This way, at least, they seemed less unnecessary.

'At least Haldir understands humans' Russel thought deftly to himself, glaring at Legolas. It had only served to confirm his doubts about Legolas being a good match for Irulan. Why Anne was so convinced that they belonged together, he didn't know. The elf seemed cold, arrogant and downright cruel. True enough, he was nothing of the king around Irulan. But that didn't change the fact that his nature was what it was and that nature was simply too dangerous to be around for his dear friend. He had taken another mental note of that.

In fact, every waking hour he was spending in Legolas' company served further to increase his doubts about this relationship between him and Irulan. Never before had he interfered in her affairs. 'There wasn't any need to,' he told himself grudgingly. Not because her choice in men had satisfied the restless mind of a friend, but because none had seemed…well…important. And besides, Anne was doing that more than enough, thank you very much. Russel had preferred to be Irulan's pillar – a friend without judgment and prejudice. However, the case of the Prince was an altogether different ballgame. Not for the first time he was actually glad that Amanda had her hooks in the elf and didn't seem too eager to let go.

Russel bit his cheeks and forced himself to return to the present. "Yes," was his simple and rather aloof reply.

A short silence followed as the elf gazed into the distance. "Do you intend to stay so?" was his sudden addition.

"Of course," Russel said after a moment of bafflement. The elf's gaze didn't change. "What do you mean?" Again, no reply. Annoyed with his staring and his meaningful looks, Russel growled "What's it to you anyway? You have...you have....you have Amanda," he finished finally, annoyed that he couldn't say it out of plain anxiety. It was the first time he had very openly reminded Legolas of that and yet, it was only true.

For a moment the elf's eyes seemed ablaze. But it could have been only the fire. "I have no one," was his final murmur, so low that it was barely audible over the hiss of the flames.

Russel scratched his short shadow of a beard, discomforted by the solitude he sensed in that comment. Granted, Legolas was not his favorite pal. But on the other hand, he could not deny the intrigue he felt for the man. Intrigue and...admiration. All right - anyone in his right mind would admire Legolas. Not only because of his deeds in the Old Days. But simply because of the creature that he was – an alien. A castout. A foreigner. A god. Just because he couldn't –or maybe shouldn't- have Irulan, didn't mean that he should suffer to his last breath. "She is really pretty, you know," he said, merely for consolation. The beautiful, slanted eyes of Amanda floated into his mind.

"She is more than pretty," Legolas growled back. "She is the most beautiful thing that I have seen," was the lower and late addition.

Russel couldn't tell if the other man was annoyed or defensive of Amanda. He gazed into the flames with raised eyebrows. Once again, the elf had managed to change his mood in a matter of minutes. The truth was, whatever Legolas said, Russel felt like objecting and taking the other end of the discussion. When Legolas was kind, he wanted to be rude and cruel. When Legolas seemed broken, he wanted to console him. When Legolas was defensive, he simply wanted to be offensive. Amanda was a beautiful woman, no doubt. But considering that Russel had seen far more stunning women in his short life and considering that Legolas had a far, far longer life... "Come now," he said finally. "I mean...she is beautiful, granted. But nothing special."

Legolas gave him an amazed look. "Obviously you don't know much about women," was all he said in the end.

Russel's head swiveled back to him. "Hah!" he said, too baffled to say anything else. Then again "Hah!" An amused smile spread on the elf's lips and more than annoyed by that, he clenched his jaws. "I know quite a bit, actually. Try having Irulan and Anne for best friends. It'll save you the lesson of a few centuries, no doubt." He had meant it as a blow to remind the elf that they were HIS best friends, not the Prince's, but for once the other man didn't seem to be irritated at his suggestion.

Legolas chuckled, shaking his head. "And yet...you fail to see a treasure when you meet her."

"A treasure?!" the man protested. "Right!" It was incredulous to notice that just two sentences ago he was claiming Amanda to be beautiful and now was doing just the opposite – because Legolas was praising her. Confused and annoyed at his own childishness, he gazed into the flames once more, desperately trying to avoid a sulk.

"Why do you speak like that?" the elf said slowly, giving him an odd look.

"Look...Legolas," Russel huffed, speaking his name for the first time. Did that make them friends? Hell no! He shifted with unease before he continued. "Don't pretend you understand women. I mean...let's face it – NOBODY does. And since you...I mean...since it didn't work out between you and Irulan..." He gave the elf a quick glance and continued before there would be a temperamental outburst, "...my point is proven."

"And what point is that?" seethed the Prince.

Russel shrugged. "No one understands women. We might as well stop pretending." He exhaled in frustration and massaged his neck, looking up to the stars. "That's why you are here. That's why we're BOTH here," he finished with a murmur, his thoughts dancing towards the issue of Anne again.

"True enough," was the half-amused statement. "And yet...I spot precious when I see it. And you do not."

"Fine, so you do. I don't think that's a good thing anyway," Russel growled, shifting to glide to the floor and leaning his back to the log he used to sit on. "I've seen one precious and it screwed me up." He could see Legolas staring at him from the corner of his eye, but kept his eyes on the fire. "Never been the same ever since," he sighed finally.

"Neither have I," sighed Legolas.

Wait – were they agreeing again?! A sizzle of irritation sparked in him and he dished out the words to find relief. "At least you'll get to be with her." Again, Anne held his mind. 'God knows what I'll do,' he added to himself, feeling tired, bored and miserable.

"What are you talking about?"

Russel blinked in confusion. "Your 'precious'. Your 'most beautiful thing'!" he groaned. The only reply was that damnable blank stare. "Amanda, for God's sake!"

A long moment passed. "I wasn't talking about HER," Legolas said with a low growl. This time it was Russel's turn to stare and blink. "I meant Irulan, you fool!"

"Irulan?!" was the baffled shout of a reply. "But I thought..." The dry stare of the elf stopped him from being a further fool. Wait – shouldn't he get back to the man for calling him a fool? "Oh hell," he growled, irritated. "I was talking about Amanda."

Legolas shook his head –another indication how stupid he thought Russel was- and proceeded to lie back to the log himself, crossing his arms below his head to gaze up to the stars. "I must admit," Russel drawled then, feeling the need to kick him back. "Irulan IS beautiful." Actually Russel had always thought so. Most people might not categorize her as that, but to him she was simply gorgeous. Of course not nearly as stunning as Anne....but nevertheless, gorgeous. As any good friend, he could not evaluate her physical looks only. He was too close to her judge her like that. To him she was a mass of everything. Of the moments they had laughed till they were crawling on the floor and the days she had cried on his shoulder. She was a combination of bashing and chasing and friendly embraces and mug-throwing.

"True enough," was the cool response to that. "Alas, words would not suffice to describe her. She has the beauty of liquid fire that boils in the womb of the Earth. Of the cool gaze of stars in the desolate night sky. Of the scent of the breeze that touches pine leaves..." Despite himself Russel turned in his direction, gazing at the outstretched form. "Elusive, gossamer and fragile as that. You can not reach it. Never own it. She belongs to another plane. You can only watch and admire."

Another silence followed. This time he was too impressed to calculate whether he should offend or defend. "Boy," Russel said finally, "you are really in love, my friend." Legolas said nothing. He exhaled in frustration and leaned back again. "So am I," he sighed with a lower voice.

That dangerous urge to get up and chocke Russel overcame Legolas again. No matter how many times he told himself that Irulan never wasn't and never would be his, that damnable heart ofhis would not listen! 'She can have a relationship with anyone he chooses,' his mind tried to convince itself with something akin to desperation.

'And she chooses HIM,' another and far more amusing voice interfered. 'HIM over you, Legolas.'

He glanced at the other man as another stab of jealousy hit him. 'What does he have that I do not?' Then he almost issued a bitter chuckle. He shook his head again. He had asked that very question once to Irulan. At that time he had thought that David was her boyfriend. He turned away with a flash of anger. 'Hah! A mere boy! A child!' he thought, the fire in his veins refusing to die out. 'He thinks he is in love with her! He has no idea what love IS!'

He huffed and got up, then walked away into the dark shadow of the trees. He was angry and he wanted to strangle something to dilute the pain. Strangling Russel seemed to be a more tempting idea by the hour. Still, deep in his heart, he knew that the man had no fault. Apart from his occasional stinging words and attitude, he had kept to himself. That, however, irked Legolas even further. He was jealous of Russel and it was eating at his heart. The trip had made it all worse. Before 'Russel' was just the name of competition and as minor and unimportant as any competition Legolas had faced to this day. Now the man was in front of his eyes, day and night, mute and obedient and Legolas felt like ripping out this heart.

'The first thing that I will do when I return to New York, is to find out who this man is,' he told himself as he walked on the soft grassy hills. Then he halted, shook his head and chuckled with disbelief. Finding out about him?Definitely not! Irulan was none of his business anymore. And consequently, neither was Russel.

"Alas," he sighed to himself, then, "every day I repeat that to myself, and still I am here." He wanted to object. He wanted to say that this was different. That he didn't trust Russel to shave himself in the morning –and note to everyone, that beard looked nowhere as good as it did on Estel- forget about saving Irulan. He really wanted to. But alone, in a cool Chinese night, under the magnificent sky it was silly and well...human.

He continued his stroll, away from the fire and away from Russel. The truth was, he had missed Irulan. There had been times he had been forced into longer absence from her, true. But then there hadn't been such a gap between them. And true enough, the Bond was restored, but for once he didn't know if this was good or bad. Because ever since yesterday, he felt like he had to FLY towards Irulan. A terrible panic threatened to overcome him whenever he dared to think of her. All he knew was that she was not in danger at the current. But he also knew that she wasn't well.

He took a frustrated breath and gazed out into the dark. How could a man in his right mind deliver the woman he loved into the hands of another man? How? He was thousands of years old, and this was one trick he had yet to learn. Maybe Anne had been right. Maybe he really should have gone up to Irulan's door, knocked and as soon as she had opened it, move in, grab her by the roots of her hair and kissed her with the longing, passion and desperation he had saved up until that moment. Scandalous, for sure. What kind of elf would force himself upon a woman like that? 'The desperate kind, I guess,' he thought to himself and shook his head again. It was against every custom and principle his kind had so stubbornly managed to hold on to since unthinkable time. And yet, times changed and wasn't it always essential to change and adapt WITH the times? Maybe the courteous, stoic and overly polite way of the elves was over. Maybe it was far more effective to learn some human oddities.

Once, thousands of years ago, he had known of a man who had kidnapped the woman he had loved. Against both her own and her family's will. He had dragged her away from everything she had known. She had hated him for it and sworn never to return his love. When Legolas had passed their way merely two years later, she was with child and as happy as a five year old. He had stared at her in disbelief as she leaned on her 'husband' and he embraced her waist with immense affection. He had dined with them, too polite to prod, and left the next morning.

The issue, however, had not left him. He had thought about it long and hard. Not because it had been the first time he had witness this kind of catastrophic love and passion amongst humans. But because it was against his nature and the principles he had carried around with himself. And it had worked. Thankfully Legolas had never been forced to employ such means to bend mortal women to his will. He had always proved to others –and maybe more to himself- that kindness, patience and a little bit of stubborn persuasion led to the same that now there was a case at hand that could not be bend, persuaded or waited out...perhaps it was time to test out that theory.

"What am I thinking?!" he exclaimed suddenly, abashed. Just a moment ago it was all about letting Irulan go and bracing himself against her future with Russel, and now he was once again thinking how to regain her! He brought up his hand and massaged his brow in frustration. "A symphony of contradictions I am," he murmured into the night. "A song of weakness. No wonder she turned from me. "Who would have the heart to hear me out?" Amanda, Irulan, Russel…the names danced in his mind, clawing, soothing, demanding, protesting. In the midst of all, the Prince of Mirkwood felt torn, small and clumsy. The Valar had calculated and speculated and had finally come up with a scheme to leave him witless and weak. 'You win,' he thought, gazing up at the sky. 'You win. You have made a mortal out of me.'

The cool gust that touched his face in reply felt like the cruel laughter of victory.

* * *

Where are you?"

"Here. Right here."

The darkness was incredible and Irulan saw nothing, felt nothing other than a chill to the air. "Where, Baeron?"

"Here," came his whisper and a moment later, the touch of his hand on hers. Irulan jumped slightly, then clasped it eagerly. It seemed a far too great luxury in this alien environment.

"I can't see you," she said a few moments later, turning her face to where she thought he was standing.

"Nor do you need to," he soothed. "You can feel me, no?"

"I can," Irulan breathed in relief, smiling. His presence was a fantastic change in everything. Even though a dream, it was welcome and comforting. It didn't matter if Baeron was indeed reaching out to her from another world with merely his spirit, or if she was making him up with her own imagination. He was here and the darkness felt less frightening simply because of that. "Where is this place?"

"A place where you and I meet," he said. He had such a beautiful voice! She felt his other hand closing on hers as well. "It is every place and no place."

"Is it...is it Bentanta's tomb?" she whispered with a sudden tinge of fear.

"Only if you want it to be," was his late reply.

"No," she said quickly. Then, more confident "No. Better not."

"Then it's not," he said and she sensed a flash of amusement in that answer.

She thought about that for a moment as his hand caressed hers. "Why are we here? Did you come to guide me, Baeron?"

"Is it guidance you need, my friend?"

"I...can't remember," Irulan mumbled and frowned in the darkness. "I don't know how I came here. Or when. What happened?" If Baeron shrugged, she could not see it, but merely felt the action in the slight pulling of her hand. She tried to remember, but any memory other than the darkness was like fish gliding in the water beneath her – shadows of illusion fleeting back and forth under her little boat. "That is strange," she mumbled and felt a slight headache building up from the effort. "Where am I?"

"The right question is," he sighed a long moment later " 'Who am I?'"

Irulan blinked, then grinned. "That's silly, Baeron. I know who I am." He didn't answer and she rolled her eyes. "I am Irulan, you fool."

"Which Irulan?"

She exhaled with a tinge of frustration. "I don't know how many you knew," she seethed with mock anger. "I am me."

"Are you the Irulan who danced with me in Vienna?"

"Yes," she laughed. It felt childish and somehow relaxing to play such a silly game.

Baeron remained silent for a moment. "No," he said finally.

"Very funny," sighed Irulan.

"That woman was full with life and love. You are not her. Who are you?"

Irulan stilled and gave the darkness a hard look, assuming that the elf could see her. Alas, in this thick darkness perhaps he couldn't. "Are you trying to say that I am not like that, now? Or is this a cryptic expression for another silly statement?"

"Are you really that woman, Irulan?" Baeron said a long moment later, his voice low and soft. "Can you look at yourself and say so?" There was a long silence and Irulan found no answer to the question, although it seemed to be simple enough. She thought about it, knitting her brows when he spoke up once more. "Perhaps you are the Irulan who ran into my arms at the airport in Madrid," he mused. "And held my hand in a hotel room while the world bade farewell to daylight?"

"No other," Irulan said, then hesitated. "I mean...yes, I think so."

"Are you certain? You sound unsure."

"That's because you are confusing me!" Irulan protested and drew back her hand. As soon as the contact vanished, though, she felt terrified of being alone in the dark and quickly sought it out. Baeron slipped his fingers between hers once more, seemingly undisturbed by her gesture.

"You remind me of her, no doubt," he said then, thoughtful, "But that fragile, disappointed, broken woman must have been another."

She sighed, the memory of those days sharp in her. "Maybe you are right," she said, a tinge of sorrow creeping into her voice. Of all things, the memory of that plane flight when she had cried herself almost to death was the least welcome one and rose a bitter tang in her mouth.

"There was an Irulan who walked the Tunisian beach with me," he said, a bit merrier as if to stray her from her own recollections. "And promised to seek me out in another life." Suddenly she felt his fingers in her hair, gently caressing. Irulan closed her eyes, feeling unexplainable relief at the action. "She smelled like the sea and wore a shirt like foaming water. Her eyes sparkled like the African sun on the ocean. Are you perhaps her?"

"She was full of hope and bold to a fault," Irulan smiled. "Sometimes I fancy I am her, but at other times it seems like I am nothing like her." She opened her eyes to total darkness once more and smiled broader. "And she smelled like the sea because she was dumped into one," she added. Baeron chuckled to that and so did she. A long silence crept between them. "What about the other one?" Irulan said finally, biting her lip. "The one who walked with you in the dark?"

"Ah..." he sighed. "My favorite of all! Through time and dust we walked..." His voice trailed and the fingers in her hair stilled. Irulan held her breath, trying to sense if any sentiment was emanating from him, but she caught none. "She made a promise never to forget me. That Irulan, I loved most of all."

Irulan felt tears building up in her eyes. "I don't think I am any of those, now," she said, her voice shaking.

A long moment passed and she bit her lip, listening to the thick silence. The need to cry was overwhelming. She felt so tired, so very tired, and had no clue why that was. "Who are you then?" Baeron said softly. She had no reply for that, so she remained silent, the need to sob quelling further and further inside her. "Are you an unforgiving woman, Irulan?" He sighed and she felt his fingers combing through her hair again. "Are you vain? Too proud for your own good?"

"I might be," she whispered and could not help to sob before she continued. "I killed you, Baeron," she said, a terrible pain choking her words out of her. "I lost Legolas."

He caressed her hair and Irulan closed her eyes again, letting the tears glide down. It was easy with Baeron here and the dark to block out everything. She cried and he caressed her, soothing her senses. It felt so good. Too good to be true. "What is this fear that you grow so stubbornly in your heart?" He whispered a long while later. "To whom is your anger, King-daughter?"

Irulan took a shaking breath and tried to quell her sobs - to no avail. "I don't know!" she cried in reply. "I want...I want Legolas. But I want myself, too. I want to be with him, for him to care for me and protect me. And yet...when he does so, I feel like I am caged beyond rescue." The words fell from her lips, unheeded. Words she had not dared to think out before. "I love him so much!" she sobbed. "It frightens me and hurts me because..."

"Because you have lost your trust for him, have you not?"

Irulan nodded in dismay, not really thinking if he could see the action in the dark or not. "He is so...deceptive. And so...elusive!"

She had nothing to say to that. "He is older than you can comprehend," Baeron sighed. "It is one thing neither of you can change, Irulan." She knew that of course! She opened her mouth to tell him so, but he continued. "You think it is hard for you to engage in an affair with Legolas. You are selfish, Irulan, if you think it is any easier for him." It pained to hear the truth and it pained her even more to hear such disapproval from Baeron. She shook with another sob, covering her wet eyes with her free hand. He took a deep breath and continued his gentle caressing while she cried. "He, too, is afraid, my friend," was the more soothing addition. "He never gave his heart before and he is no wiser to the ways of love than you are. But he knows what loss means, more than you will ever come to realize. Grant him that."

Again, Irulan nodded. Why was it so easy to talk to Baeron, to hear the truth in his words when it was so hard to accept it from Legolas? Why would the idea of submitting seem not to terribly terse when Baeron mentioned it when the same idea spoken by the Prince of Mirkwood only caused her temper to flare? "I have lost track of my reasons," she sighed finally. Her crying had lost its intensity and only occasional tears glided down her cheeks now. "I can't remember why I ran from him, anymore. My excuses seem small and silly now. My anger remains, but the source is forgotten." A wry smile crossed her face as she stared into the darkness.

"Time has a way of mending things," Baeron said slowly and grasped both of her hands in his. "All you have to do is allow yourself to be healed."

"And what if the same happens again?"

"Then you will heal again," was his curt reply.

Irulan took a deep breath. "I would be a fool to make the same mistake twice."

"No, Irulan," he said gently, "you would be a brave woman to take another chance, against all odds."

"I could never get over another one of those blows!" She protested, not as strongly as she wished to.

"On the contrary," he said in a heartbeat, "practice makes perfect. Your second failure would be far easier on your heart. And the third easier than that. By the fifth, you'll hardly cry." She gave his direction an astonished look and if sensing this, he continued, mild amusement in his tone. "That is, IF you are brave enough to keep trying." Irulan sulked in silence as he added "You pride yourself in not being craven and in facing your mistakes. I would certainly like a demonstration of that."

"How on earth can it be that you can call me selfish and coward and make me almost AGREE, when I would kill Legolas for the same words?!" Irulan protested finally, half amazed, half curious.

"Because," Baeron sighed, "you don't fear to disappoint me."

It was so plainly true, that Irulan could only smile, wiping the remnant of tears from her eyes. The sudden realization was incredible in her heart - not only because it was a surprise not to have thought of it in that way, but also because even if she had, she wouldn't have probably admitted to it, before. In the thick darkness, her hands in Baeron's, Irulan realized with sharp certainty that all the time she had pretended not to care what Legolas thought of her and what his feelings to her were, she had been lying to herself more than she had been misleading him. It was all right to be weak and clumsy in the presence of Baeron. It was all right to cry on Russel's shoulder and to let him see her and tend to her when she was sick and ugly. It was perfectly normal to make terrible mistakes and be stupid when Anne was around. But Legolas...As dreadful, horrible and disgusting as it was, she cared more for his opinion than anyone else's. It was unthinkable to be weak in his eyes. Or undesirable. Or...human? Irulan took another breath and tried to fight off the temptation to argue. "It is true," she mumbled, more to herself than to Baeron. And maybe that was why his last words of refusal had hurt so much. Was it childish to try to impress Legolas? Was it foolish to seek his approval and his liking, sometimes simply by pretending to be the unconquerable, unbendable heroine? And if his disappointment in her hurt so much...how much did her refusals and sharp edges hurt him? Irulan felt the simmer of shame rise in her.

"You see, Irulan," Baeron said, his voice now a bit more distant, "all this time you blamed Legolas for fooling you. And all this time you have only fooled yourself. He was more honest to you in the matter of his heart than you ever were to both him and yourself."

"I am only human," she whined into the darkness as a feeling of receding invaded her. She felt as if she was moving, though her eyes could detect no movement in the darkness around her. Baeron's touch was gone and Irulan reached out to regain it, grasping empty air.

"No," he said, his voice low and almost inaudible in the distance, "You are a daughter of kings."

"Baeron!" she cried into the dark. "Don't leave me! Baeron!"

"Come to me," she heard him say, his voice the echo of a distant echo. "Come for me. I shall wait for you, Irulan."

"I will!" she yelled into the cool darkness. "I will, you'll see!" A determination like no other rose to grip her heart and choked her next words. 'If mountains bar my way, I will move them aside,' she thought and shook with the thought alone. 'If rivers dare to cross me I will bend them.' She swallowed, the gust of boldness and strength almost dizzying in its intensity. For that moment and only that moment, she believed the words. They were not her words - who was Irulan to speak such poetic nonsense?

'Daughter of kings,' someone said right beside her and it wasn't Baeron's voice or any other voice she knew. Maybe it was the voice of her mind. Or her heart. Or some ghost, lost from memory long ago. She didn't care. "Baeron!" she tried again, hoping that he would return to her side. But he didn't come. As much as she had dreaded the conversation, she dreaded his absence even more. After so many months, she had finally come to speak with him again and now that, too, was over. "Baeron!" she tried again, knowing that he would not reply and that he was beyond her reach. Forever.

And then something strange happened. The sensation of standing upright shifted and she knew that she was lying on hard ground. A river roared before her, and then it was all around her, smashing her like a little pebble. She groaned, trying to move her limbs and finding them hard and immovable. Consciousness came with memory and memory turned into consciousness. She knew then that she had been dreaming and Baeron hadn't been real. It felt worse than anything.

'I am dead,' she thought then. She had to be. No one could fall into a wild, vengeful river like that and hope to remain alive. 'So it was true,' a dim corner of her mind mused, 'I was to die at this journey.'

However, Irulan had learned from a certain previous experience that if you came to your senses and your body screamed with pain, most likely you were not dead. She hadn't died when she had stumbled into the depths of Bentanta's tomb in Egypt and she wasn't dead now, by the way her limbs ached. It was almost funny, come to think of it. Always she seemed to be flying off some cliff, and always coming back from the dead with merely a fracture or some damaged tissues. That time it had been Baeron who had softened her fall by placing himself beneath her and taking the hard impact, this time it had to be pure luck and the damnable water, since no other was here.

In that much, however, she was wrong.

As soon as she managed to open her eyes, she perceived a dullish grey sky overhead that spoke of dusk, and only moments later, the face of a stranger. She tried to jerk upright, the sudden fear she had been spared from when she had jumped into the river returning with full speed, but a hand on her shoulder prevented her from rising. Not that she could, if she wanted to, probably. "Don't get up yet," said the woman.

Irulan took a deep breath and tried to bite back the bile that had risen in her throat. The world seemed to spin and her head was thundering still with the roar of the water, even though she was out of it and on dry land. She slowly let herself sink back on the soft grass and only then dared to swivel her head to see her surroundings. She seemed to be lying somewhere in the forest with bushes and trees around her and a wider clearing to her left. "How do you feel?" the woman crouching beside her said then and she turned to look up at the long, black, sleek hair and the slanted, dark eyes. Obviously Far Eastern, she had a beautiful, but stern and somewhat hard face. Her accent, though, didn't back up her heritage and she spoke English with the fluency of someone born to the language.

"I...like I was dead and came back," Irulan rasped, closing her eyes to still the spinning world once more.

"Good," was the curt reply to that. "Better than not to feel anything at all."

Irulan cracked one eye open. "Who are you?"

The woman smiled then and she looked even prettier when she did that. "I have many names. But it is my birth-name, Jiang-qing, that you should know. No less for a daughter of kings."

Irulan's eyes widened with disbelief and against better advice once more she tried to sit up. Her arms were shaking when she leaned back on them, fixed on the face of her calm companion. "How do you...why did you call me that?"

The Chinese woman laughed softly and stood up, gazing down at a bewildered Irulan before she answered. "Be at ease. I mean no harm to you, Irulan."

This did nothing but make Irulan more anxious and by this time she had a strong suspicion that she was hallucinating the whole conversation. It seemed too absurd to be true. "Who sent you?" she whispered in fear and confusion.

Jiang-qing met her stare. "No one sends me. I go when asked."

They stared at each other for a moment and Irulan closed her eyes again, to keep the trees around Jiang-qing from spinning. She needed answers, but the questions seemed too hard to ponder upon. "Where am I?" she said finally. For a moment she thought that the woman would give her an enigmatic answer and ruin her hope, but the reply was short and certain.

"China."

"Did I really jump into a river and live to suffer?" she mumbled, shivering a little. The air seemed stuffed, but somehow very cool to her newly awakening senses.

She felt a hand pull the blanket further up to cover her better. "Yes." This woman had no sense of humor, by the looks of it, only dry confirmation. "I was late to prevent your jump, but just in time to fish you out."

Irulan's eyes shot open. "There were men!" she exhaled with fear and suppressed the need to rise and take a look around her to confirm they were alone.

"Yes." Another blank confirmation.

"Why?" she managed to croak. The world danced and earth, dusk, sky, trees waltzed.

"You ask many questions, King-daughter." This time there wasn't even confirmation or a decent answer. If she didn't feel so cold and sick and tired, maybe she would have been furious. "I only have so many answers. Rest some more."

So she did. Or she was forced to, when a black and deep sleep overcame her. When she woke again, it was dark and the fire was playing on the serene features of Jiang-qing when the woman leaned towards her. It seemed to be colder and Irulan was trembling like a leaf. "I…" she started and then closed her mouth, the clatter of her teeth both frightening and irritating to hear ears. "Cold," she managed to whisper finally.

The other woman quietly stepped away, then proceeded to place a few more sticks into the fire. She gestured Irulan to rise, but it proved to be impossible a task for her alone, so she assisted her and pulled her closer to the flames. An extra blanket was produced and wrapped tightly around her. Still, the bite of the cold seemed to creep in through the layers. "No blanket…for you," Irulan stuttered. Her head hurt. Her heart hurt. Her legs hurt. When had this journey stopped to be a vacation?

"I will be fine," Jiang-qing said quietly. "I will keep the watch, anyway." Only then did Irulan remember the other men and her gaze held the Chinese woman's for a long moment, willing the question into her mind. Either it worked or Jiang-qing was psychic. "They can not harm you any longer, Irulan," was the soothing and almost gentle addition. A shaky sigh of relief escaped her and Irulan wrapped herself tighter into her blankets. "Who…?"

"We don't know yet."

"We?"

Little orange flames danced in Jiang-qing's dark orbs. "The Circle."

Irulan blinked with surprise and disbelief and couldn't find words to utter for a few moments. "The CIRCLE?" Her head seemed to spin faster at that and swallowed hard. The other woman was silent and observant. Something about that attitude seemed familiar, though Irulan couldn't really think of why that was at the moment. "Why would...I mean how is it that the Circle..." Irulan halted and glanced at her before she decided to continue. "How come you know the Circle?" Her jaw ached from the effort of speaking the sentence.

"I work for them," Jiang-qing said with such natural tone that it seemed everyone on the planet should know that bit of information and Irulan was stupid to have asked it in the first place. She sighed when the confusion on the other woman's face prevailed. "Rest now. I will tell you all when you wake up."

She wanted to resist. But she knew that the Chinese woman was right. Her words were a tumble in Irulan's head and made no sense whatsoever. "Maybe when I wake up again," she thought to herself and let herself sink onto the grass once more. Before long, another draught of sleep took her.

When she woke again, it was somewhat lighter and the fire seemed much smaller. Irulan tried to swallow and found her throat sore. She tried to sit up once more and found Jiang-qing above her again. The woman had a cup of cool water and Irulan drank it lively, allowing the taste of cool water to race down her throat. "You look better. But it could be deceiving," she said after Irulan had drank all the water. "You have a fever and have been trembling like a leaf."

Irulan could have told her easily enough that she was sick. She was burning with a strange fire, and feeling cold at the same time. "If I die of sickness instead of that river, it'll be something worth to laugh about," she said grimly. "And well…at least I will die under a tree," she sighed to herself glancing up to the swaying branches. "And not on an asphalt sidewalk in New York."

"You choose to live in an jungle of buildings, and come to die under the trees of my land, King-daughter?" Jiang-qing just said then. She had the most enigmatic smile on her lips and an even more mysterious expression in her eyes. The way she chose her words, the way she said them…it was all so strange and alluring. Irulan shifted to rise. Jiang-qing placed a backpack and a few blankets behind her and it helped Irulan to sit up. That reminded her that her own backpack was probably lost and gone forever. She sighed in slow frustration and tried to think of something else. The forest was cool and silent around them, only the whisper of trees in the upcoming dawn were audible. She glanced at the woman who chose to sit across her, with true grace and calm, resting her wrists on her knees like some yoga instructor. They sat in silence until Irulan was fed up and broke in a hoarse voice. "I am rested now."

"Yes," was the approving reply, "enough to find meaning in my words." Nevertheless she allowed herself a break and glanced at the treetops and the slowly fading sky before she commenced. "As I have said before, my true name is Jiang-qing. I have come to find you and it is probably pure luck more than my own skill to do so before you died in these woods."

"Thank you," was all that came to mind and the Chinese woman nodded slowly in acceptance. "It's a big place," Irulan added a moment later, not knowing how to continue and feeling rather too much of a clumsy and ignorant New Yorker in this place. "I wouldn't know where to start looking for me."

Jiang-qing smiled. Probably because she was polite. Any decent person would have laughed out at that stupid remark. Irulan massaged her eyes, trying to force her brain to wake up. "I know this territory very well," was the kind comment. "I have traveled through it for dozens and dozens of years now. That is why the Circle contacted me and no other."

At that, Irulan had to look up and frown hard. Obviously her brain was still not working because Jiang-qing seemed to be in her late twenties. "Dozens of years?" A brief and placid nod. "Like in…Earth years?"

Again the other woman merely smiled with the slightest hint of amusement at that incredible perception. "I am old, King-daughter."

She wanted to tell Jiang-qing that this conversation was getting stranger by the moment and that she should please not call her that. Instead she blurted "Are you an elf?" before she could stop herself. If so, she would have been the first female elf Irulan had met. All female elves had chosen to leave to the Undying Lands before time was time. Or maybe they had been forced - maybe it had been thought that it was a kinder judgment on them. Men went to war, didn't they? Men faced the danger and ugliness of the world. So it had been men who stood their ground. Whatever the reason, she had neither heard, nor seen a single female elf and it had always seemed queer to her.

"Ah," smiled Jiang-qing. "No. My father was an elf. My mother mortal. Elfblood flows in my veins."

"As does immortality." The comment spoke of Irulan's wonder and surprise.

The other woman merely nodded. "That, too."

A short silence followed. "I'm sorry," Irulan stammered. "For staring. I mean...I have never met...Not that I have met too many elves or their wives...but this is rather...new."

"I am used to it," she said with a gentle wave of her arm. "It's only natural."

Another short silence. "So...how..."

"How old am I?" A mysterious smile bloomed on her lips. "Far too old, if you ask me."

Irulan nodded, trying to keep a respectful face. She should not prod into things that were not her business. She knew that all offspring of such unions were immortal, but she also knew that their number was so meager that it was a far rarer chance to meet someone like Jiang-qing than meeting even an elf. A slight shiver shook her out of her daze and she caught herself staring again. "Sorry," she mumbled and diverted her eyes to gaze into the blooming orange in the sky. Then she thought 'What the hell! I might never see it again,' and took another glimpse at the Chinese woman who sat in mild, patient amusement.

"Let us strike a deal," Jiang-qing said finally. Irulan waited with intense curiosity. "I will not comment on your staring at me. And you will not be offended if I stare at you."

"At me?" Irulan croaked.

"You are the first of the line of the King I have met," the other said solemnly. "It is an honor, Irulan."

"O-of course. I mean…no!" Irulan closed her eyes and silently cursed herself. "I meant to say," she sighed with stuffed anger. "The honor is mine, Jiang-qing."

A small laughter forced her to open her eyes again. 'This is a beautiful woman,' she thought, stupefied. There was something incredibly plain, smooth and earthy about Jiang-qin. Her incredibly young appearance along with the grace one saw in Far Eastern women only, plus a certain 'maturity' that was, no doubt, the fruit of all the years she had lived. It was ironic to realize that Irulan had felt this same excitement and curiosity when she had first set eyes on Legolas. Back then, he was as alien a creature as she could imagine herself confronting. Now Legolas seemed natural while Jiang-qing was overly exotic. "Sorry," she winced. That didn't probably sound right at all. "Do you have a different…"

"Mona. You can call me Mona," was the mirthful reply.

"Yeah," she snorted with mock frustration, grinning despite herself and nodding to confirm her own uselessness, "I am from New York."

The reply to that was enough to stupefy Irulan and force her to join the laughter of the Chinese beauty. "So am I!"

They laughed for many minutes until Irulan coughed and whimpered from the strain. Then Mona was kneeling beside her and massaging circles into her back. It helped to ease the pain. Irulan breathed deeply, then relaxed when she didn't feel the stab of pain again. "Don't tell me I fractured my rib again," she whispered a moment later.

"Again?"

"Yeah," she smirked. "Cause I've already been there, done that, you know."

"I think," Mona smiled, "you must have liked the experience. For you did it again."

To that, she could only roll her eyes and moan. "Damn!" she muttered, tentatively brushing her fingers over her right side. "Legolas was able to heal it really fast," she muttered to herself. Then she realized Mona's silence and glanced up. The woman was displaying an enigmatic smile. "You know him," Irulan added slowly, reading the expression correctly.

"Lord Legolas? I do." Mona shifted to sit beside her and a small silence set in. "You spoke of him in your sleep," she added then. "And of Baeron."

After a moment of bafflement, Irulan managed to pretend that she was busy wrapping herself tighter into her blankets. It took a few minutes for her to seek the words. "That is how you know of me, too." The silence was an affirmation and Irulan didn't know why she felt oddly betrayed. What had happened last year was, after all, sort of catastrophic in elven standards and it was no wonder that most of the community had heard of it in this or that fashion. Still, it made her feel uneasy and anxious as to what the Chinese woman might be thinking of her. Odd enough, she felt embarrassed. Not only because she had been the reason for Baeron's death, but also because Mona probably knew of Legolas' obsession with her. "I guess that's only fair," she whispered after what seemed a long silence.

"To be loved by men such as that?" was the incredulous reply. "No. I would say that is more than fair."

Irulan smiled to herself ruefully. At least she had the kindness of elves. Haldir would have given an answer like that. "Do you know Haldir, too?"

It was surprising to see Mona's smile freeze on her face right before she managed to order her features to indifference. That hadn't been what Irulan had expected as a reaction, at all. This time, the other woman seemed uncomfortable and rose to extinguish the fire. "I know the Marchwarden," was all she said, her back turned to Irulan's apprehensive gaze. The bitterness, however was hard to miss. 'Don't ask,' Irulan urged herself. 'It's rude. Totally impolite. Extremely unkind. And definitely none of your business.' Her lips thought otherwise. "Very well, I think." She flinched when Mona first froze, then did a slow turn to look down at Irulan. Her slanted black eyes seemed to bore into hers and it took her a few moments to stutter out an apology. "I mean…I meant…not that it's any of my business, of course…but…"

"No, it isn't."

Another short, curt and blunt reply. Irulan sighed and suddenly felt a pang of anger. Mona knew about her more than she was supposed to. She knew her lineage, her affairs with Legolas and even where the hell she was to be found. It seemed only fair that Irulan should know who the hell Mona was, too. And she was sick, damn it! And cold! Not to mention, hungry! So it was her right to be a bit…nosy? "Right," she said with obvious defensiveness and glanced into the dawn. "I guess it's only my affairs that should be announced to every living soul."

As soon as she said it, she regretted her own rudeness and childishness. The sharp silence that followed didn't help. She waited and waited. When no accusation came, she massaged her eyes again, suddenly feeling very tired. "You saved me from certain death and I thank you by offending you." She took a deep breath and fixed the black orbs of the other woman. "I am truly sorry. It won't happen again." She bit her lip for a moment, then reluctantly added "Though with me…you never know."

For a moment Irulan thought that Mona would turn away and refuse the apology. But she surprised Irulan once again by smiling a sincere smile. "Fair enough, King-daughter. You are an honest woman."

"Let's not forget rude," Irulan countered with an exasperated mumble.

"No. How could we?" When she looked up, Mona was grinning and odd enough, it didn't look silly on her young and serene face. The tension between them eased up and Irulan smiled, trying to feel the warmth of the dawning day.

"I suppose you can't heal my rib?" was Irulan's mock frustrated demand.

Mona stilled then and Irulan stilled with her, watching her face with an anxiety she couldn't explain. The day was silent, and yet the standing woman turned away, gazing towards the forest as she stood as if in rapt attention. 'Oh God!' Irulan thought just then, the whole events of the previous day attacking her with a mighty force. 'They found us!' Her body seemed to find this as the perfect excuse to fall apart. Her head begun to spin and once again she trembled underneath the blankets. Her eyes bore into Jiang-qing, standing like a carved statue, indifferent to anything else but to what she was focused on. Irulan took a hasty look around. 'This time there isn't even a river to jump into!' she thought ruefully. On another day it would have been funny. Right now it was rather far from funny. They listened and listened and still Irulan wasn't any wiser as to what the hell they were listening to.

When Jiang-qing finally took a deep breath as if to brace herself for the upcoming meeting, she turned to meet the other woman's eyes. Despite all the panic she was feeling, the smile on her face snatched Irulan's words from her mind. "I think," Jiang-qing said slowly, looking strangely pleased and a bit anxious at the same time, "I won't need to, after all."


	14. I See You Through My Own Eyes

_I know! It's been soooo long! I am losing my edge, for sure. When you read it you might wonder why, but this has been the hardest chapter to write, so far. It changed dramatically every time I wrote it and turned into something completely different in the end. You might also wonder why it is the way it is – but believe me, it HAD to be. For other events to fall into place. Besides…isn't it so very ironic that we interpret others so very wrong most of the time and that they, in turn, interpret us, too? I have seen it do more damage than any singular person is capable of – this misinterpretation. _

_Anyhow – thank you, thank you, thank you for the amazing reviews! My schedule won't let me reply right away but I hope that the installment of yet another chapter will make up for it a little bit. _

_Merry Christmas to all and I promise the next chapter will be faster. _

* * *

"I should go," Russel said as they stepped away from the horses.

Legolas gave him a sharp look. "Not without me."

The anger that sparked in Russel's eyes was hard to miss. "I should go alone." The elf's eyes blazed in reply so he added reluctantly "At first, I mean. I can…break her reaction."

Legolas turned to him, then. He seemed very tense and impatient to stalk after Irulan. This conversation seemed completely absurd to him. He opened his mouth and Haldir intervened. "He might be right, my lord." He turned with surprise to his friend, startled for a moment. "Let Russel go. I would not want you to face disappointment if she is still upset."

Legolas remained very still and deep disbelief emanated from him. "No," he said flatly many moments later. The horses whined softly as the company stood frozen in the swiftly building heat of the day. Mona stood aside, watching the interaction with placid eyes. "No," he said again, hoping that the argument would die.

Haldir took a step towards him. "Legolas," he began tentatively, then continued in Elvish, "/You did not part in good terms. What if she is still bitter about that?/"

He waited a short moment to still the argument those words managed to spark in him and spoke against all rationality "I do not care."

Haldir took a deep breath and massaged his eyes before he dropped his hand and fixed the Prince again. "/Listen to my counsel, please. I am not telling you NOT to go. Only to remain aside for a few moments to judge her reaction."

"She isn't well," Legolas seethed then. His anger was building further. And not only because he was irritated at the intervention, but also because Haldir's words made sense. 'I don't care,' he thought with as much determination as he could muster. 'I need to see her. NOW!' The pull was incredible and he knew that she was very close. Their last parting, his vision in the jet, the terrible incidents that had taken place since they had arrived in China and the fact that Irulan was giving off a weak, damaged signal all seemed too good excuses for him to just dash in her direction right this second.

"Yes," Haldir pressed on, eager to explain his logic. "/But remember your parting. Remember that she said nothing to you before she left. Remember, also, that she called not you, but Russel/." The pain that settled into Legolas' eyes at the recollection of that was impossible to miss for elf or mortal. It sent a similar flash of ache through him but he took a deep breath and continued, determined to spare his old friend as much disappointment as possible. Though this was a mission to reunite the couple –on his behalf, anyway- he had no intentions of hurling them towards each other. After the last happenings it seemed much safer to assume that Irulan was not very happy with Legolas and that she would react harsh to his presence here. A friend would bear her cut far easier than Legolas at the moment, he thought. "I know that she will change her mind about you and I have no doubt of the love in her heart for you, my lord. But…please – let us be cautious."

Legolas looked away, towards the direction that Irulan was. He pursed his lips. His thoughts were a blur and he felt incapable to listening to logic at this moment. How very true Haldir's words were! In fact, if there was one person in this company that Irulan would be unhappy about confronting again, it would be him. And yet…all he wanted to do was to run there, embrace Irulan and kiss her senseless.

He stood, unable to tip the scale in either direction when Anne spoke up for the first time. "Legolas," she said warily, watching his reaction, "Haldir has a point. I know Irulan. If she is still angry at you, she might take this really bad."

Still he waited. 'I don't care!' he screamed to himself in his head over and over again. But…he DID care. He thought of another slash of her fury and deep in his heart Legolas knew that he didn't have the strength to face something of that magnitude right now.

Russel, who took this opportunity to kick some sense into Legolas, moved in. "You said that you came to help us finding her." The Prince's head snapped up and their gazes met once more. It was a true test of courage for Russel not to step back at the rage he saw in those orbs. He swallowed and forced himself to look as casual as possible. "You said that was the ONLY reason why you came. And that you meant to return once we did."

Even Haldir tensed at this. He knew well enough that Legolas was not here for something as simple as that. He had come to win Irulan back, there was no doubt about that. Russel knew this as well. He SHOULD know this. But he had hit a very weak spot. He glanced at the man and wondered how smart Russel was. Apparently much smarter than he had anticipated.

Legolas merely clenched his jaws and fisted his hand so that he would not scream out his rage. What to say to that? Hadn't he mentioned that he only meant to help and not stand in Irulan's way any longer? He had. Hadn't he said that he would step aside after that? He had. Hadn't he hinted that he was to return to Amanda as soon as it was all over? In fact, he had bid her goodbye and promised a return right in front of them, before they had left the hotel in New York.

A darkness like no other descended on him all of a sudden. With it came sharp, teasing irony. 'Again I have forgotten my place,' he thought ruefully and glanced towards the forest again. 'How right they are! I am not here to win Irulan back. It is not my place to embrace her and kiss her and to hold her to myself.'

"Russel!" hissed Anne just then and he heard it behind the curtain of his own terrible wail of defeat.

"That's what he SAID," Russel responded stubbornly. Legolas didn't look up and merely tried to breathe. The darkness closed further and further on him. He was not a part of Irulan's life anymore. He had no right to dash to her and announce his undying love. It was over between them. So what the hell was he doing here? "If he has some other motive, I want to know it," Russel added.

Legolas looked up. The rage was replaced by a complete unreadable blankness and somehow that was even more frightening. A long silence issued between the two men. 'Yes, there is another motive,' his spirit yelled. 'I love her! I love her! I love her! I want her back! I am here to reclaim her!' Empty words. Empty threats. He had turned his back to her and she had turned hers in return. Legolas had no place in her life anymore. 'Is this the moment I step aside and let another take her?' he thought. He could not bring himself to do that. And yet, he could not allow himself to be hurled head over heels into another losing battle.

How long time passed as the birds twittered in the background and the horses panted, he didn't know. He stood and stood, hope slowly flowing away from him. He had known this from the very beginning, didn't he? He had known it and still he had entertained himself with the fantasy of her acceptance. The truth was, she had said goodbye and that was all there was to it. He placed his forehead on the mane of the horse and hoped that they would take this as a sign of acceptance, for he would never find it in his heart to speak out the words.

They did.

He heard Russel asking Mona where Irulan was, and then the crunching of the drying grass as he walked away. Stillness prevailed after that and it fit the emptiness in his heart perfectly. He had done his duty and found her safe and sound. Now he could be dismissed. He felt Haldir's hand on his shoulder and shrugged it away. The elf stayed another moment in hesitation, then said "My Lord, please! I merely offered for Russel to take the first blow."

The surprise and the desperation in the Marchwarden's smile forced a rueful smile to his own lips. Still he didn't meet Haldir's eyes, but inspected the grey flakes on the horse's mane. "My mind clouded for a moment," he said hoarsely and only the gods knew how he managed to form words while a deep, dark vortex wailed like some wild banshee in him. "Thank you for reminding me my place."

Haldir felt a surge of panic. This was definitely not the direction things were supposed to proceed! He shared a horrified glance with Anne. "You can't mean to say…" he began, dumbfounded.

"I came to find her." The Lothlorien elf was cut off with determination and if he didn't know better, he could say that there was a slight tremble to Legolas' voice. "And so I have."

"But…"

"Please leave me," Legolas managed. A long silence and nobody moved. "Please go," he whispered in desperation. He had not cried in millennia and if the urge was to become too strong to fight, he would not want it to happen in front of this company.

"Legolas," Anne whispered back with a tinge of sorrow but the elf only shook his head and kept only eye contact with his horse.

The terrible defeat and sadness that leaked from him was too much to bear and it was that more than anything else that finally made Anne walk in the direction that Russel had disappeared to. Haldir hesitated still, torn between begging for forgiveness and granting his friend his wish of solitude. Finally he exhaled deeply, clenched his jaws and with a last prayer to the gods that this action was perhaps for the better for now, silently glided out of sight.

Again silence. "You too, Jiang-qing," Legolas said without turning.

"Shall I take care of the horses, my lord?"

"I'll do that," he said quietly. It would give him something to do. Other than remain a broken ruin, that is.

Mona nodded to his back and made as if to withdraw. Then halted and turned. "Would you take a look at Irulan's fractured rib, then?" she said, her voice gentle but other than that, expressionless. She saw his shoulders stiffening for a moment and the hand that was caressing the animal's mane faltered. Then, seconds later he continued the action in silence. "I am not as good a healer as you are, my lord," Mona added slowly.

"I will take care of that," he said then, almost dismissively. Mona, thinking that this was as much as a reaction she would squeeze out from him, nodded again and glided into the foliage, leaving the elf alone.

* * *

Irulan waited and waited. She shivered, trembled, coughed and waited some more. Perhaps it was the wrong thing to do. Maybe Mona, who had disappeared into the bushes a while ago, was not coming back and she was left alone in the middle of…nowhere. Should she get up and at least try to hide? It seemed a futile idea, but it was better than giving up and waiting here like some sheep ready to be sacrificed.

So she rose on her shaking legs, took a deep breath to still her heart and glanced around to decide which direction offered more bushes to hide behind. And without giving herself the time to think further on the issue, she stepped away. The forest was not too thick and that was good when you had a stroll in mind. Unfortunately it was a bit of a disadvantage if you were planning to hide from people who had ill intentions towards you. She walked on wobbling legs, supporting herself on the broad trunks of trees. She didn't hurry and neither did she try to hide as she had planned to. It seemed more stupid with every step. Right then a nasty cough shook her and she stopped, leaning on a tree and waiting for the fit to pass.

'I should have never come,' she thought to herself, feeling miserable and sick. The blanket threatened to slide from her shoulders so she pulled it up, swallowing the bile down. 'Anne and Russel were right. Who am I to think that rural China is my league? I am a stupid, inexperienced city woman.' The thought was embarrassing and painful because it was true to the core. She had imagined such a lovely journey! She had imagined finding Baeron's house and walking in its dusty silence, savoring memories of her friend. To her irritation, her eyes became wet again. 'Just what I need now!' she thought, beginning to feel a prickling sense of hate and disgust about her own weakness.

The forest was silent and tranquil around her. 'I wonder which direction it is,' she thought then, pulling herself up to lean entirely against the trunk, her back towards the camp. 'Maybe I can just walk and walk and…' A wry smile curled her lips. 'I will die and maybe Legolas will never find out. He will look for me. Maybe. Or maybe he will stuff the very memory of me away, along with so many unpleasant ones he has accumulated over the years and…move on.' She felt the wetness on her cheek gliding down. 'I am sick and sentimental, that's all,' she told herself. If there was only a way to apologize and embrace him one last time…

It was just then that she heard the rustle behind her. She tried not to jump, but she flinched a little anyway. 'This is it,' Irulan thought. It was a strange sensation – there was fear but also…relief? At the end of the road – no matter how much she wanted to go on – she sensed that she was tired of running and being afraid. She took a deep breath and leaned her forehead on the rough bark of the tree. Then a moment later, she turned and faced her killer.

Later she would look back at the moment and realize that perhaps never in her life had she felt such exhilarating surprise and such incredible happiness, stuffed into mere moments. Her mind froze for an instant and forgot about qualms such as how this could not be real, how it was an illusion, a cruel joke. Maybe she was really, really sick and hallucinating somewhere while Mona was wiping her forehead with a cool cloth. Maybe even Mona was an illusion and she was dying at the bank of the river. It meant nothing to Irulan at the moment.

"Irulan," Russel said just then and she couldn't remember if she had heard anything more beautiful. Her name spoken by him, by someone so welcome and dear to her, was like salvation. She remained, confused but feeling nothing other than bliss about that confusion. A long moment passed and Russel took a step towards her. His eyes held the expected care and worry, but also deep affection. He quickly scanned her with his looks from top to bottom and back and Irulan remained, clutching the bark with one hand and her blanket with the other, shivering from both the cold and the incredible joy in her heart. Finally they locked eyes again and he pursed his lips before he said slowly "Say something."

Emotions of safety washed through her mind, dizzying her. Everything would be all right. Everything WAS all right. Her friend was here and though she had no clue how that could be, it meant the world to her. She breathed a few more times to clear her head, then tried a smile. It felt awkward on her lips but she managed despite the odds. "What took you so long, you buffoon?"

Russel hesitated only a moment, trying to register this least possible answer of all, then swung himself at her and barely seconds later she was tangled in a suffocating embrace. She cried out with both surprise and the pain that shot through her ribs, but either Russel didn't hear, or he didn't care because he didn't soften his grip. They banged into the bark and another protest of pain was torn from her lips. "Ouch! Not so…"

"You stupid woman!" he cut her off with a yell. "You stupid, stupid woman!"

She had to laugh at that, no matter how strange the situation was and he hastily held her at arm's length, then shook her, as if trying to shake some sense into her. "Russel! Stop…"

Too late. Another embrace followed and Irulan this time only gasped from the sizzling fire that spread through her midsection. She thought deftly how strange it was for Russel to show this much emotion. He was not very comfortable with this sort of thing, but at the moment seemed perfectly careless about such sentimentalism. "Damn, I swear if I wasn't so glad to see you right now, I would beat the shit out of you!"

She chuckled again, dangling from his arms like a doll. A long moment later he pulled back and released her. His hand cupped her cheek and the crease of worry was on his forehead again. 'Who needs a father and a mother when I have Russel and Anne?' she sighed inwardly. "Are you all right now?"

"I was well before you crushed my already fractured rib," she snorted, grinning like a fool.

He almost pushed her off hastily, then on second thought grabbed her arm again. "Damn! Why didn't you say something, woman?!"

"I tried to," Irulan began meekly but was cut off by another rustle behind him.

They both turned in that direction and she heard him say "Here she comes!" with some sort of a moan.

When Anne appeared, cursing about thorns and bushes under her breath, it was somehow not surprising at all – although it should be. Considering that she was in China and all. But Irulan registered the meaning of Russel's remark as soon as their eyes met and the other woman dashed forward, obviously meaning to repeat the deadly embracing act. She flinched despite herself and could not help a breath of relief when Russel stepped between them and held off the mad ball that was Anne. "Russel, let me through! Are you mad?!"

"She is injured," he groaned and doubled his efforts to thwart her off.

It took some moments for that information to sink in and Anne stilled. Right after that, though, she tried –this time harder- to battle her way around him to reach Irulan. "Oh my God! Let me THROUGH!"

"I'm fine, Anne!" Irulan said with a soft smile, shaking her head. Again, she chuckled and wondered how it could feel so normal when she was at the moment experiencing something rather unnatural or miraculous. "But be easy with the embrace for God's sake!"

The blonde woman smacked Russel's head just then and gave the baffled man a withered look before she inched around him and found Irulan's arm. "You stupid woman!" she seethed then, right before she threw her arms around Irulan's neck and gave her a mighty hug. Russel groaned with disbelief and Irulan barely held down another protest of pain.

"Anne, I mean it! It HURTS!"

"All right, all right!" was the hasty response before Anne pushed herself off. A tight smile was on her lips and she seemed very tired. Also a bit disheveled. That state just confirmed the fact that she WAS here, in China and that she had made this long trip just to find Irulan. Irulan glanced at Russel over Anne's shoulder and noticed the same signs of tiredness in him. 'I should be angry right now,' she thought, but her grin spread only wider. 'I can be angry later,' she added then mentally and, for now, let it go.

"I can't believe you are here!" she said softly and grasped Anne's hand, who squeezed hers in return.

"Neither can I," Anne whispered almost slyly.

"What on earth are you DOING here?!"

"We came after you," Russel sighed, looking a bit wary now. Irulan just gave him a blank look and he added with a graver voice "Sorry."

Irulan looked from one friend to the other. "You came after me?" she repeated, dumbfounded. "But why?"

Anne didn't look like she meant to steal's Russel's spotlight so he took another deep breath and forced himself to continue. "Because..." How to say that this had all been Anne's devious scheme to send Irulan and Legolas into each other's arms? How to say that he had never really supported that thought and that, in the last couple of days he had spent in the elf's company, he had grown even more ill-favored of it? And how to say being plastered against the wall by Legolas and being treated rather hostile by him was the main reason for this – not his lack of belief that Legolas did, indeed, love her? "Because –and I apologize in advance, cause I know it sounds stupid and selfish- we were worried for you. You left so..." He shrugged his shoulders, suddenly feeling out of place and rather deep in trouble.

It was surprising to see that the expected anger didn't wash into her gaze. The Irulan he knew would have been fuming right now. But maybe, he thought, too much had happened in between for her to be angry at the moment. Irulan took a ragged breath and adjusted the blanket on her shoulders again.

"Legolas was so ill," Anne intervened just then, "that we were worried for him. So we thought...I mean...he would feel better if he had something to do with himself."

"Legolas?" was the baffled question and a strange spark passed through Irulan's brown eyes.

"Yes," Anne added, gaining ground, "he was really in bad shape, Irulan. Isn't that true, Russel?" She gave Russel a short glance and continued without waiting for a reply. "I was really sure he would die or something." Anne winced when Irulan's eyes widened with panic. She was exaggerating too much, now. "So we asked him to find you." Irulan looked even more confused now - she just stared at Anne, open-mouthed. "It gave him something to do, you see. He seemed so lost and all. And," was the more pleasant addition, "not surprisingly, he did it with enthusiasm."

"Legolas is HERE?"

Anne nodded and grasped Irulan's hand. "He came all the way to find you."

A short silence issued as the other woman tried to absorb these mind-blowing facts. "Is he still ill?" she said suddenly, evident fear in her tone.

"He is...better," Anne replied, hesitating just enough to make it sound dubious.

"Oh dear," Irulan mumbled then, as if speaking to herself. Then again "Oh dear," and instinctively reached out for the tree trunk to steady herself. Her knees had begun to shake again and she felt dizzy once more. Legolas was here! Here! She had so wished to see him! To speak to him one last time and tell him that she was madly in love with him and that yes, she had been jealous of Amanda and yes, she wanted to be with him, no matter what. That she had made the worst mistake of her life by letting him go in the first place. It was a blissful, yet shocking news to find out that her wish had been granted.

"Haldir said," Anne added hastily, seeing her advantage now and ignoring Russel's fiery and disapproving gaze, "that the Bond between you was severed. And that Legolas was ill because of that."

Irulan's head snapped up again and this time she wasn't concealing her fear. A long moment passed as she stared into Anne's green eyes. "It was my fault," she whispered finally and felt only dizzier for it.

"No! I mean yes...but he is better now, Irulan. He really is. Why don't you go and see him yourself?"

She swallowed and glanced at Russel who merely stood, his lips pursed. "Haldir is here, too," was all the man said. Irulan only nodded to that. For some strange reason, she had expected that. And it was only a minor surprise compared to the fact that she had caused some serious injury to the only man she had ever really loved. She swallowed again and felt her face heat up with shame and regret. "Make no mistake, Irulan," Russel seethed then and she looked up to find him right before her, looming above her. The urgency in his expression forced her to shake herself out of the reverie. "He only came to find you. He will return to her."

And that was probably the worst news of it all. There was no doubt about who 'her' was and what this 'return' meant. It was exactly as she had expected it to be – Legolas was with Amanda now. 'I thought that was what you wanted,' rasped a voice in her head as the blade sunk deeper and deeper into her heart. 'I thought so, too,' she replied silently. 'God forgive me for that.'

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

Anne's furious outcry made her blink and look up. Russel still held his ground and hadn't turned to acknowledge the other woman. He spoke to her, but fixed Irulan instead. "Enough Anne! You know it's true."

"There is nothing going on between..."

"You think you know everything," Russel conceded, slowly turning to fix the blonde woman. Damn, she looked absolutely fabulous when angry, but he had more important things to focus on now. Such as the well being of his friend. "But you don't know shit. Maybe you don't remember, but I do – he kissed her goodbye and said that he would return to her before we got into the cab in New York. And that's the truth of it."

Anne's face was crimson with fury and for a moment Irulan thought she would punch Russel straight in the face with those shaking fists. "It's all right," Irulan heard herself saying. "I...know that."

"It's not true, Irulan!"

She gave Anne a tired smile. 'You have no idea how much it hurts, Anne. You have no idea,' she thought to herself. 'Please, don't push any further.' Out loud she said "Please, don't lie." It sounded so broken and defeated that even Anne, who was impossible to shut up in times like this hesitated with a reply and only glared at Russel with a promise of slaughter.

"But he loves YOU!"

"And I him," Irulan sighed, gazing into the forest. She was surprised to say it so openly and especially in front of Russel, but the surrealism of the situation made her feel careless. And what did it matter now, anyway? A chance gone was a chance wasted. "Sometimes, that doesn't matter at all."

Did she believe that last part? Not entirely. Not from the heart. But it was the way the world worked and if she believed in one thing, it was the fact that there was a justice to it all. She had pushed Legolas away. She had refused him. She should be the last person saddened by the news of another, who had opened her arms to him. She should be the last person to object or feel anything but deserved punishment. 'Thank God I am not immortal,' she thought, out of nowhere. 'How can one live with a regret and guilt like this till the ends of time?'

Then she found herself walking towards the direction of the camp. A promise hung at her heart, weighing it down. A promise to ask for forgiveness and to be, for a change, the person to be refused. She felt sick to the bone and weak as a baby. But the disadvantages only heightened her sense of justice and the promised punishment felt, as strange as it might sound, sweet as a summer's day.

* * *

By the time Legolas heard and felt her behind her, he had calmed down and cut away his pain and anger. Though not his heart, his head had finally made a decision and the flat, dissatisfied taste of it didn't necessarily mean that it was the wrong one. It would be foolish to think that all his previous decisions in this matter had been right, to begin with. If this was another mistake on the road, it only fit the grander picture. But there was also the chance –and not a slight one, at that- of this finally being his first right decision in the matter of Irulan.

The very day he had walked into the meeting room in his home in England to offer a test of seduction, he had set foot on a path that was doomed to be wrong. The journey, after having wound itself through Italy, France, Germany, Austria, Egypt and finally had ended once again in England, was the outcome of all that one mistake. And along the way, he had managed to make many and graver ones as well. Now, in a different land as far away from all that battle as could be, he had a chance of changing the way of things.

A refusal was a refusal and the gods knew that Irulan had refused him too many times to leave any room for misunderstandings. He took a shallow breath and tried to prepare himself for the avalanche of a meeting as soon as he turned to face her. The months following their parting dwindled into his mind, then. How could he forget the self-confidence he had felt in the beginning of the chase! He had been so sure of himself, so certain that the love between them, together with time, would eventually wash away all the little and unimportant things that were keeping them apart! And then…day by day, week by week this unscathed confidence had turned into doubt, and after that a sense of doom as the weeks had turned into long months and Irulan had still not shown a hint of giving in to his charms. It was fun to hunt her, at first. He was, after all, and always would be a hunter at heart. It had been stimulating and intoxicating to seek her out, to baffle her, to leave her speechless and at times even a bit embarrassed at his flattery and flirting. But as she slipped further and further away into the thick foliage of New York, and managed to escape every trap he had set for her, the fun of the hunt had worn out. He had never shown his frustration to her, of course. To Irulan, he would always wear the mask of perfect confidence and iron determination. Neither had he dared to accept the possible defeat blazing in the horizon. But gone was the exhilaration and the cocky confidence of being able to seduce any woman he would set his mind to.

Her rejections were not motivating anymore, but rather grim defeats that seemed to flock to him more and more each day. "I shall win her over, still," he had thought, lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling and recalling the short time he had spent with Irulan. "She will forgive me. She HAS forgiven me. She will give me another chance. Maybe tomorrow. Or next week. Certainly by next month." He had smiled with that self-imposed assertion. "Then I shall kiss her until her taste is all I have on my lips for days and days," he had mused. Such a prize was too tempting to turn his back to, so he had continued, against all odds.

No need to say that he had failed.

And he had also proved her point – that he was incapable of changing, incapable of stepping back, bowing with respect and waiting for HER to make her decision. That he was a slave to his emotions and nowhere near the mature person he was supposed to be. 'She has been right from the very beginning,' he thought now, smiling a deft smile, 'I am not worthy of an affair with her.' He had failed her, disappointed her and finally lost her. It was all his doing. His alone. What held once a possible hope between them was tattered and lost now. Legolas, with his iron palm, had set fingers on it and had crushed it dead.

After all the wrongs, he would do at least one single, weak right. He would do what she had asked of him. He would fulfill her wish, even if it meant torture to him. Irulan deserved that much and far more. If not for love, she deserved it as an apology, as a repayment of what he had taken from her, as a small token of gratitude of what she had given him.

She was waiting, he knew this. His pulse sped up just at the thought of it and he could do nothing to calm it back down. She was waiting for him to turn around and repeat the things he had been forcing her to witness over and over again. But perhaps for the last time, he would disappoint her – though it would be a disappointment for the better. 'Legolas is dead,' he thought as he released the saddle to the ground and slowly turned to face her, 'Long live Legolas.'

Was it fair that she looked absolutely stunning? Was it fair that his whole body sung with excitement and longing when he set eyes on her? What kind of mercy did gods have if they had placed them across each other on this chessboard of life, on black and white as enemies? And how was he supposed to remain standing here like a fool and pretend he didn't see how weak she looked and how pale her face was? Irulan smiled then and for a terrible moment he thought his body would break out of his control and run to her anyway. He was astonished to find himself still rooted to the spot.

She took a step forward and his mind reeled, his heart thumped and soul ached as he tried to understand her expression. Was she still angry at him as everyone else seemed to think? No – Irulan's anger was an unhidden, solid thing and no trace of that was in her face today. Was she disappointed perhaps that he had done –again- what she had urged him not to do – that he had come after her? If she was, it was not visible, either.

She swayed with indecision, halting at the brink of an abyss she could not fathom. He waited with her. Wanting her more than anything he had ever laid eyes on in all the world. And reduced by her beatings into a cripple that could not reach out and claim his wish. "I hoped that you would come, Legolas," she said finally and took another awkward step towards him. She clung to the blanket as if it meant her dear life and searched his eyes.

Legolas swallowed softly and willed his face to be unreadable. Why was it so damn hard? The only way leading out of his misery seemed to be anger and he flung himself at it. Without much success. "At least this rare time I seem to be no unwelcome surprise." He locked eyes with her confused stare. Again, that terrible look on her face. The look of disappointment. And such sadness. The urge to wipe if off was incredible and still Legolas hung on, tethering at the edge of the same dark chasm. "I am glad, Irulan." His voice was solemn and without emotion. Just as it was supposed to be.

Irulan felt like a solid slap landed on her cheek and it began to burn with color. 'He is still angry with me!' echoed a thought in her head. How foolish it had been to imagine that simply by calling to apologize or simply by walking out for a friendly greeting, she was capable of erasing the wounds she had managed to inflict him with! The color of shame spread further on her cheeks and her heart. "Thank you for coming," she whispered a long moment later, careful not to choke on the words.

Legolas opened his mouth and thankfully the words spilled out of their own accord. "You're welcome."

She cast her eyes down for the moment and had to use all her determination to glance back up at him. "There is...a lot I need to tell you," she said quietly. How wrong it sounded! How terribly wrong! These words were meant to be delivered in between embraces and kisses - between tears of joy and a swelling heart. Not like this. Never like this. "So many apologies to be made," she mumbled. Her heart was hurting so damn bad! She took a deep breath and remembered the promise she had made to herself on the train. This was not the time to be vain and Irulan had long lost the right to be proud. "I am sorry. For everything. For everything and more." His unreadable face was a knife in her heart, sunk too deep to be drawn out. "Legolas, please..."

"It is all right," he whispered then. This torture was eating at his heart and it was unbearable to say the least.

Unfortunately Irulan had no intentions of letting go. "Do you forgive me?"

He forced down the eager reply of 'Of course I do' and looked her in the eye for a long moment, instead. To his further pain, she began to cry then, silent and desperate. She wrapped herself further into the blanket and stood there, biting down the whimpers and wiping without success at the tears that glided down her cheeks. 'Oh gods!' he thought, his heart literally aching with solid, physical pain, 'I was not made to endure this!' Against better advice, he stepped forwards and walked to stand before her. 'She has been through hell!' he consoled himself. 'She is in pain! Nobody should expect me to be insensitive to that!' So he looked down at her, hesitated for a moment, then said softly "Please don't cry." He laid a hand on her shoulder as a soothing gesture "Everything will be all right."

Her reaction to that was definitely unexpected. Irulan threw her arms around his neck and embraced him so fiercely that momentarily he lost his balance and had to take a step back to regain it. The blanket dropped from her shoulders and pooled around them as Legolas involuntarily held her waist. He felt the wetness of her tears on his neck and her muffled sobs continue as she remained locked to him. Too baffled to move or speak, he remained, hanging for dear life to the image he was trying to convey. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it before something wrong stole out. Thankfully she spoke and took the choice from him. "Legolas! I am really, really, REALLY sorry! I am such a bitch! A terrible, terrible person! I came out here, hating you and hating myself and hating everyone and then…I am so sorry! I was so unfair to you!" He listened dumbfounded as she continued, her voice shaking, her warmth cradled in his neck.

"Irulan," he finally managed as a whisper and fell silent again. His other hand cradled around her waist, too and he gingerly held her, closing his eyes. 'Maybe finally I DID make the right decision,' he thought then, dimly as she continued her apology and crying. And maybe it had been a wise move to send in Russel first. The thought made him look up, but there was no sign of the rest of the company. Relieved somewhat he turned his attention back to her and after a brief hesitation lifted his hand to caress her hair.

She sniffed and cried some more, then pulled back a little to look up at him. Even like this – her face puffy from the crying and looking worn out and tired, she was gorgeous to him. But having found more proof that his new attitude was the right one, Legolas kept himself from being distracted by that beauty and merely gazed down at her.

Irulan wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. She was both relieved and highly disturbed by his behavior. Never before had Legolas kept her at arm's length. He was the one who would eliminate all distance between them at the first given chance. Now, though, all he seemed willing to give was a light embrace. She took a deep, shaky breath trying to drown the desperation that came with that. It was, after all, expected. And hadn't Russel said that he meant to return to Amanda? The idea was like a spark in her heart and she hastily snatched her hands back from his neck. She glanced up him again and felt her heart fill in with a different pain. Legolas was beyond her reach now. He was lost to her. Amanda would have him and Irulan had lost the chance of her life, period.

Her head dropped to her chest as fresh tears built up in her eyes. She felt his hands on her shoulders and it only seemed to make it worse. This was not how she wanted to be held! This was not how she wanted to be soothed. "It is all right," he whispered again, trying to make eye contact. She avoided it, afraid that it would break the last resolve in her. "Let it go. I…WE are here now. Nobody can hurt you, Irulan."

She shook her head, feeling so very, very small. How to tell him that she didn't care about anybody or any kind of pain inflicted to her by others? How to tell him that she didn't care for the rest of the company either? How to tell him that all that mattered was HIS presence and that HIS attitude was hurting her more than anything she could describe? She bit her lip and tried to choke it all down.

Legolas embraced her again then, lightly as before –not in the crushing manner he used to do before- and gently pressed her to his chest. Something that Russel would do. It hurt even more than his words but it was all she had left, so she accepted it with the shame and regret she would accept any small kindness on his behalf. She clutched at his outer jacket and gave in to the circles he was drawing on her back. The pain became something monstrous and horrible and it shot roots, eager to dwell inside for a long time. No more fire and flame, but a terrible shadow of emptiness engulfed her. She longed to fill the vacuum and wondered for the briefest moment if her confession of love would do that. But alas, Legolas was hurt and pained due to her deeds from the former months. Also, he was to return to Amanda. No, it was not the wisest thing to say now that she loved him and always would.

So she remained in his embrace and suffered blow after blow on her pride and heart. He held her and soothed her and it felt good – but not as good as it used to. Mingled with relief was the little, sharp ache that came from the knowledge that more passionate and intimate embraces were Amanda's to have from this day on.

* * *

Haldir and Mona watched Russel and Anne dive into the trees. A long time seemed to pass and Haldir spent it like he had spent the last few hours. To be honest, the last few days: by contemplating what to say to Mona. And he STILL had no answer to that. He threw her a sidelong glance and unfortunately Mona caught it, fixing his eyes with hers. As always, it unsettled him greatly. "Well met, Jiang-qing," he managed finally. He knew that his features spoke none of his anxiety, but he also knew that this meant little to her.

"Well met, Marchwarden," she said with the same tone, slightly inclining her head.

She looked away then and Haldir wondered –not for the first time- if it was worse to be ignored or to be pinned down by her eyes. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. As much as he had tried to avoid it, the events had washed them onto the same shore, once more. Here he was, with Jiang-qing standing beside him like so many, many other times and though the world changed and continents moved and stars died out in the sky, nothing seemed to have changed in this matter. Still, he felt both angry and guilty and still he felt like both too old and too young.

"You have done us a great favor. King-daughter is precious for us in many ways," he said finally, simply to say anything and break the tense silence.

Mona nodded once, but refused to look back at him. He wondered if he was lucky and if she had softened a bit towards him, but the next moment he knew that he was nowhere that lucky. "I did it for Lord Legolas," was the clear but expressionless answer.

Haldir barely kept himself from pursing his lips. That would not do. Not at all. He, too, gazed into the woods and thought how foolish they must look at the moment. "I didn't call, because I wanted Lord Legolas to make a decision in the matter," he said with the lame, slightly bored tone. It occurred to him then that Mona hadn't asked for an explanation. He stole a sidelong glance and indeed, she was looking at him.

"Of course," was all she said. But there was accusation in the tone. Or maybe after so many tense years, he thought there was. In any case, it woke the fire of desperation in him and he turned to face her fully.

"I was not even sure whether or not you were still in China."

Mona sighed then and shook her head with a grim, half-amused smile. It was a lie – if not a direct one. Haldir always knew where Mona was – he made a point of knowing that. But he also tried to do this as few times as possible so that he could convince himself that he really didn't care. She looked at him again, in a measuring way and all he could do was to look as indifferent as possible. "I have been here ever since Czechoslovakia a year ago."

This time he knew that he didn't look half as indifferent as he wished. "I came to see you."

"I know," she said simply and shrugged, gazing at the distance again.

Her calmness sparked that peculiar anger in him once more. "And you refused to see me."

Mona said nothing for a while and Haldir spoke a mantra of 'Don't let her see that it mattered, that it hurt.' Finally she turned to him and locked those terrible dark eyes on his. There was anger in there simmering, all right. Anger and hurt. He seemed to have woken that part of her once more. "Does it surprise you, Marchwarden, that I can refuse you now?"

As always, the use of his title. As always, the sharp blade of her tongue. He was cursed the moment this woman was conceived, of that he was certain. "Unfortunately, it does not surprise me at all," he said quietly. He had meant it to be sharp, but it sounded sad and broken. A silence stretched between them and standing aside, they saw Irulan slowly walk out from the woods, heading towards where Legolas would be. Haldir thought of going to her and embracing her, checking on her wounds, but her demeanor told him that this would be a bad timing. So he watched her in silence and let the minutes slip by before he added "I am glad to see you, now, though. It has been a long time."

"Not long enough, by far, for me," was the cold reply before Mona turned and walked away. He exhaled a frustrated breath. Why, oh why on earth, of all the places to go, did Irulan choose to come to CHINA?

He sighed again and tried to quench the emptiness in him. He had done the right thing. He had. He ignored the amused question mark that rose in his soul in the face of that thought. Given the circumstances, what should he have done? He felt tired and old and the gods knew that he didn't like that particular feeling at all. He glanced at the swaying trees, seeking comfort – even the slightest hint of it. But he found none. Not surprisingly, Mona's dark eyes had managed to kill all else other than the peculiar feeling of doubt and guilt in him. She had a gift for that, that much was certain. For taking a right decision and making it look so very, very wrong.


	15. End of the Masquerade

_I know. AGAIN it has been too long. But you HAVE to give me a break – the Christmas and then the New Years mayhem was impossible to disregard in New York. That is no excuse, yes, but it is the truth. _

_A million things are happening in my life right now and sometimes I really want to write, but hardly find the chance or time to do so. I ask for forgiveness and patience. _

_I know the story is very different from FATH. It has definitely none of that romantic courting that we were fond of so much, the last time. But the point was to write something different, as always, and though it might be "dragging" for some, I really like the way it is evolving. I hope that by the time we reach the ending and when I tie up all the lose ends, it will be more understandable for everyone. _

_As a personal note, I must ask for all not-signed-in reviewers to give me their e-mail if they actually want a reply to their questions. I am not a psychic, girls!_

* * *

He wouldn't speak to her. Nor would he look at her. Ironically, Irulan felt at the moment very much the woman she had been when she had first met Legolas. Yes, this was the cool, aloof elf that had slowly strode down the stairs in his castle in England and had looked down at her with a stare that suggested strong doubts about any heritage that she might have.

'Or maybe not,' she thought, gazing towards the forest. For the coldness of the man was not without a slight tinge of sadness that he didn't have at their first confrontation. And she knew, of course, that if he had never courted her or had never shared a strong intimacy with her, his actions would have looked far more normal. She was, she had to admit, acutely used to being pampered and spoiled and chased by Legolas. Being treated with indifference was a sharp slap in the face, compared to what she had been indulged with, before.

"Let me take a look at that rib," he said suddenly from right above and Irulan flinched and blushed, as if she was caught at the act of pondering about him. She didn't answer, and only shifted a little to rest her back on the rock behind her and he crouched down in silence, laying out his tools on the grass.

She looked towards the forest again, trying not to show how confused, irritated and yet excited she was, and only after many moments realized that Legolas stood still, staring at her. When their eyes met, he hesitated before he said "I will need you to remove your shirt."

Irulan bit her lip and took a long minute to unbutton it while she desperately tried to hide her panic. A clash of emotions surged through her, adding only to her uneasiness. It was rather foolish to feel excitement now when all doors of a potential relationship were closed to her. Equally foolish would be shame – they had, after all, had spent several nights exploring each other physically and the sight of her naked skin was nothing new to Legolas. And yet, both excitement and embarrassment tried to overwhelm her as she slowly pulled away the piece that covered the tender area, exposing it to the elf's scrutiny, all the while thanking the gods that she had decent underwear on.

If Legolas felt likewise, he was far better at hiding it. With the cool gaze and touch of an expert he set to work. His warm fingers glided over flesh, causing mild pain and more excitement. Irulan swallowed hard and looked away again, feeling far too sentimental for a woman of her age. He pressed a little here and there and she groaned her approval of pain. Then he apologized for hurting her and set to wipe a rather awful smelling balm on the area. She had caught that pungent smell at her first treatment and the memory was as fresh as yesterday. "What is that?" she said, her eyes focused on the grass.

"A friend of mine makes this," he said and due to the lightness of his tone, she found the courage to look up at him. He smiled a little, but did not meet her gaze. "He refuses to tell me what it contains, but it works like magic. I always carry one with me."

She watched his fingers, carefully massaging the balm into her skin and slowly released a breath she had been holding in anticipation of the pain that didn't come. "Is he an elf?" The question was merely for the sake to ignite a nice conversation between them. Legolas shook his head, then retrieved some more balm and continued his work. "If it's so impressive, it must have taken him a long time to come up with it."

He smiled again, not glancing up at her as his hand cupped the bruised region and stayed like that for a moment. A strange heat emanated from his touch and Irulan found herself remembering that, as well. "It is family tradition and he will not give his secret to anyone outside it." He glided his palm further down, and held still for another long minute. "He is very old now, but his grandchild has mastered the art."

"In all that time someone in the line could have figured out a remedy for that awful smell," Irulan mumbled. Finally he looked up to meet her gaze and her face broke into something between a smile and a grin. Legolas looked at her for a long moment, seemingly confused how to respond, then merely smiled politely before he cast his gaze down again.

'Not encouraging at all,' Irulan thought dryly, and tried not to be disheartened. "Legolas," she said then, not willing to give up that easily, "who were those men? And why were they after me?"

This time, when their eyes met, there he was pure seriousness in them. "I was hoping you'd tell me," he said slowly.

She started, surprised. "You mean you don't know?" He slowly shook his head, not breaking the eye contact and for some reason, it felt absurd that Legolas was as clueless about the matter as herself.

"But I will find out," he said then, his tone sizzling with suppressed fury, "and have them pay for this." His palm moved again and for a moment she thought he was caressing her skin, but then scolded herself for the stupidity – he had just continued the massage. "You must tell me everything, Irulan," he added a long moment later. "Who would want to...hurt you?"

Irulan bit her lip. "I don't know, Legolas. I was hoping that you would."

He exhaled slowly and waited a little before he laid out the bandage and motioned Irulan to sit away from the rock so he could wind it about her torso. "I will not let this rest. I want you to think of every possible suspect. Colleagues, relatives, friends – anyone."

"I DID think about it, but I couldn't come up with a single name who would actually go all the way to..."

His dismissive wave of hand cut her short. "ANYONE, Irulan. It might be important."

"I will try," she submitted finally and bit her lip. He nodded curtly, then began to roll his tools together. Irulan watched him for a while and unconsciously shifted a bit. Maybe it was only psychological, but the pain seemed better already. "How did you know that they were after me?"

"We didn't realize that threat until we heard of John."

She blinked in surprise as if to say "Which John?", but merely moments later understanding dawned in her eyes. "John, the guide in Shanghai?"

He folded the bag that held the tools and stood, crouching on one knee, giving her a long and intense look. "Yes, him." Irulan opened her mouth, the question obvious, so he continued with a calm voice. "He is dead, Irulan."

She gasped in surprise and could only look on as if seeking a denial in his blue gaze. The denial didn't come. "How...why...Legolas, are you...?"

"I am certain, yes," he sighed. His eyes momentarily fell to the hand on her lap and instinctively he reached out to hold it. At the very last moment he realized his own intention and flinched, then managed to hold the blanket pooled on her lap and pretended to smoothen it. Irulan registered neither his first intention, nor his pain to hide it, but looked on with empty, glazed eyes, her brain desperately trying to find sense in this news. "He was stabbed in a bar in China," he added slowly, then retrieved his fingers and placed them on his upraised knee once again. It was easier to look her in the eye after that.

"But why?" she said with an awed whisper. And then a hasty addition: "Maybe it had nothing to do with me!"

He shook his head and watched confusion bloom on her features once more. "It can't be a coincidence that he has mislead us."

"Mislead you?"

Legolas sighed and gazed away for a moment. Mona was approaching and the rest of the group was following her. Though a part of him wanted to chase them away to grant himself a bit more private time with Irulan after the long parting, another part -the rational one- felt better for it, because it was a forced intervention on his feelings and welcome for it. When he looked back at her, he actually managed a small smile. "It is a good time as any. Let me tell you from the beginning."

And so he did. He dismissively left out the part of the letter and how he came to join the group in the first place and started with their arrival in Shanghai. It felt strange to speak about it now to Irulan. He had honestly expected her to be rather furious about their chase, but even though she listened long and hard, she showed no sign of it. Often he stopped to ask her questions and she continued, telling her side of the tale. Haldir made a few comments and so did Russel and Anne, while Mona remained politely silent and answered only when asked. Irulan felt her eyes on herself, straying to Legolas, then back to her and felt an awkward embarrassment at the fact that she knew about their relationship. Which also meant that she was witnessing now how this relationship had ceased to exist. 'What does she think of me now?' she wondered, trying to focus on the topic at hand. 'Does she feel pity for me? Does she think me stupid or vain?' She cast a fleeting look in the direction, but the placid gaze of Mona was impossible to read.

Her eyes drifted around the others who were all sitting in a circle, now. All of them were witness to something stained and lost and Irulan unconsciously lifted the blanket to cover her chest further, feeling somehow naked. Haldir looked upset and silent. Irulan thought it strange, for she had never seen the Marchwarden so. Haldir was almost always a positive and rather warm person. Now he kept his eyes on her, or fixed on the grass in the middle of the circle and spoke little. Anne wasn't looking at Russel at all and kept addressing either Legolas or Haldir. She made eye contact with Irulan a few times, but then hastily looked away. Irulan couldn't decide if it was anger dancing in those orbs or shame. 'Maybe she thinks that I will be angry for her coming here,' Irulan mused and gave up on guessing. Russel was silent, too. Unlike everyone else, he had eyes only for her. His was a supportive, reassuring look and she felt glad for it. She observed that sometimes his stare glided towards Legolas as well and she felt his uncomfort at the fact that the elf was sitting so close to her, but it was obvious that Russel could not raise an objection to that.

And Legolas...Irulan sighed and gave him a sidelong glance as Mona continued about the information she had gathered from the Circle on the matter. Legolas could as well be a stranger to her, now. Distant, cool, aloof and professional - he was a true savior but hardly anything more than that. In fact, his whole stance and aura was so composed and polite, that it was hard to imagine him to be the same elf who had courted her so passionately and had fought so dearly to get her back.

Mona was talking about the woman who had stabbed John in the bar and how they were unable to pick up her trace, yet. Ellen's murderers, she continued, had been easier to locate. Another pang of pain ran through Irulan at the mention of that name. It was dreadful to think that John was dead -though he seemed to be one from the bad guys in this game- but to think that Ellen -eccentric, bold, independent Ellen was dead was an altogether different idea. That beautiful human being was gone. Because of Irulan. She shuddered despite herself.

It was a surprise to feel Legolas gently squeezing her knee over the blanket, then. She looked up, hopeful, sad and confused at the same time and he gave her a small, reassuring smile. "I'm sorry," he said gently.

Irulan swallowed hard and felt him retrieving his hand once more. That, somehow, hurt even more than Ellen's death. She shook her head to clear the confusing and frustrating thoughts. "She died because of me, then," she managed to whisper.

He pursed his lips and for the first time, his look spoke of more than just friendly care. But his voice was as distant as ever when he chose to continue. "She saved your life. It is better to cherish that than dwell on her payment in return."

Irulan took a ragged breath and looked away. She was getting tired of his distance and at the same time knew that she had only herself to blame for that. "What happens now?" No one answered for a long moment. The day's heat was very prominent now and the sky a beautiful blue. "Do you mean to return?" She wasn't asking anyone in particular and no one seemed to be eager to be the first to reply.

"Not without you," Russel said then. "I know what you think – but I'm not going anywhere, leaving you like this."

Irulan smiled to that and looked at Haldir. The Marchwarden pursed his lips for a moment, but didn't glance away. "I think we should all return," was his final reply. "You are unwell. This trip can be continued another time when you are better and when we are sure that the threat on you is removed."

Irulan glanced down at the grass and began to rip some off. "What do you think, Legolas?" She only realized her own question once it had spilled from her lips.

"I agree with Haldir," he said at length and she looked up to meet his gaze. "We shouldn't push our luck."

"But I came to see Baeron's house!" she whined, throwing the grass stems away.

"I agree!" Anne broke in and surprised everyone. When all eyes fixed her, she added reluctantly "I mean…we have come so far. I myself am really curious."

"About what, exactly?" Russel said flatly, eyeing her with suspicion.

"The house," Anne shrugged, feigning innocence. If there was anyone in this Circle who could guess her real intention, it was Russel. He was the one who knew that a return to New York meant Legolas getting back together with Amanda and that this was totally unacceptable for Anne. And the sharp look he was giving her now only meant that he was disagreeing.

To Anne's luck, Irulan picked up the speech. "I agree. We must be really close now. Don't you think, Mona?"

Mona smiled. "You lost the piece of paper with the directions, but judging from what you can remember, I think it should be close."

"How close?"

"A day's ride perhaps."

Irulan looked at Legolas again. "I want to continue, Legolas," she said slowly. He didn't reply and for a moment she was afraid that he would say no. That he would get up, walk off and leave alone. Now that he had found her, he had no obligation to continue this trip. Especially if he found the presence of Irulan so disturbing.

"We will need your help, my Lord," Haldir said then.

"Totally!" Anne jumped to that and put her hand on Russel's knee just in case he meant to say something different.

"I agree of course," Mona commented.

But Legolas heeded none and just stared at Irulan as she stared back. Why was it so hard to say the words? Was it the fear of refusal? The fear of being rejected and looking silly? Whatever the reason, she just sat, unable to utter anything while he sat almost a full minute, waiting for the invitation that didn't come. "Very well," was all he said before he stood up and walked away. Irulan bit her lip and pulled up her blanket, releasing a ragged breath of relief. By the looks of it, even though she deserved none of it, luck was still in her favor.

* * *

They packed everything, talked about the route they should take and decided on the safest one, depending on Mona's knowledge. When it came to get on the horses and leave, another small problem issued.

Because Russel was absolutely certain that Irulan should ride with him.

Even Irulan agreed that this was a bad idea – especially considering that Russel was an awful rider. So it was Haldir who calmly explained that each horse should have one experienced rider and one inexperienced one. When no one could disagree with that, he continued by saying that since there were only three experienced riders in the present company, the solution was simple.

Actually it was not simple at all because Russel of course refused to ride with Legolas –not that the elf would agree to it himself- and so did Anne (who, by the way, had no reasonable excuse at all, but managed to squeeze herself out of the dilemma in her usual subtlety before she could be questioned further).

So Irulan ended up with Legolas on the same horse – something she had been hoping for silently since the beginning of the argument. It was her first time on a horse and it would be a lie to say that she wasn't nervous. The animal seemed huge to her eyes and it took her several rather silly attempts to get on it in the first place. They proved to be painful as well, and when it looked like she would undo all Legolas' healings if she continued trying, he came up, lightly took her by the hips and with astonishing ease, lifted her so high that sitting on the saddle was only a matter of sliding to the side. A moment later he jumped to sit behind her, then leaned forward to take the reins into his hands.

If Irulan was a woman who had the slightest idea of seduction, this would be a perfect opportunity to use that knowledge. Unfortunately she was rather silly in those areas and had understood rather early in life that she had no gift for feminine luring. So she remained, sitting in front of her like a fool while he remained silent and polite behind her.

The ride was beautiful – despite the fact that she sat stiff as a stick, afraid to fall and break her rib for sure. The scenery was gorgeous – rice fields expanding from one horizon to the next and after cresting the hill, rich bamboo forests that blended into larger woods. For hours they rode and Irulan tried to sort out her feelings and to decide on her next approach to Legolas. It was obvious that he was not happy to be with her. Once again her mind drifted to the last trip they had been to, together. The way he had looked at her, had tried to make her favor him over David… 'It was a mistake to lose a love like that,' she said to herself for the 17th time.

So she tried to communicate. She asked questions about the region and then China in general. Legolas replied kindly and unfortunately very shortly. Overall, he seemed to swat her curiosity away and another period of silence followed when he proved to be uncooperative. She had been thinking of asking him about his past experiences here, but with the attitude he showed it seemed to bold a thing to dare. The first dawning of frustration began. It was more than annoying to know that Legolas was sitting right behind her, and refused to be pulled into any kind of communication! She had missed him so much and she was so in need of his support and all he would give was "polite" help.

To her own surprise, frustration brought a certain anger with it. And it was not necessarily anger at herself, only. 'Okay, so I was wrong!' she began to think as the day turned from noon to afternoon, 'But surely rubbing it into my face like that isn't the kindest thing to do! If he hates me so much, he should have stayed in New York!'

Merely a moment later she felt shame at that anger and hastily tried another attempt at conversation to still it. "I am glad that you are here, Legolas," she said. He gave no reaction so she forced herself to continue. "I was so frustrated by the idea that I would never see you again." Again, no reply. Irulan bit her lip and looked ahead, not really seeing anything. This was not going to be easy, by the looks of it. "Does Amanda know you came?" As soon as she said it, she felt herself blush. 'Damn! Why the hell did I say that yet?'

"Of course," was the curt reply.

The regret she felt at her own words suddenly slithered in her like a venomous snake. Maybe it wasn't a strange thing to say at all but the way he said it – so natural and so confident, was –for the strangest reason- very unnerving. And so the anger returned. "I bet she didn't like it." She said, her voice growing colder. Again, he didn't answer. 'Stop it Irulan! Stop it before you embarrass yourself!' Unfortunately, her tongue thought otherwise. "I'm surprised you came at all, then."

He stiffened behind her, but said nothing in return. It was more than she could bear – the pain, the fury at herself, the anger at Legolas, the jealousy… "Stop the horse, please," she said coldly. When he hesitated she pressed on, her tone even angrier. "I want to get down. Stop it!"

As soon as the animal halted, she struggled behind him to get down and had to wait for him to glide down before she managed to do so, herself. 'Don't-say-a-word,' her intuition told her over and over again but at this point, Irulan was too worked up to calm down. So she took a few steps, then turned to face him. "Why did you come, anyway?" she countered, her eyes hard and cold.

"I came to help a friend," was his flat reply.

"Oh now so I am a friend. How gracious of you! I don't recall you calling me that the last time we spoke."

Legolas gave her a long look of suppressed anger. "I said I came to help a friend. I didn't say that friend was you."

Irulan froze and locked her eyes to his. He pushed up his chin and did the same. "My mistake," was all she managed to spit out after several moments.

"One of many," was the dry reply.

"So you found me, saved me - fine. You can go back home now, Legolas." She crossed her arms and turned her back to him, not certain if she was hurt or angry. Probably both. "Amanda must be waiting for you."

He clenched his jaws. He was not used to banter with anyone - much less with women. He was not used to such stubborn arguments, such relentless and foolish fights. No one in his long life had challenged him as much as Irulan was challenging him every single minute of every damn day. Challenging his patience. His virtues. His control. "It is good to have someone waiting for you," he seethed a moment later, then looked away with frustration. "It should have been you," he wanted to say, but he would never utter that now.

"It must be," came her cold voice. "I wouldn't know."

"Irulan," he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment, "let us not argue any further. Our battles are over. We can at least TRY to be more civilized to each other."

The fury in her doubled on that cue. Because he was so damn mature and right and knowing and understanding! It made her sick to the bone that once again Legolas had effectively put her in her rightful position - the position of an angry little girl. "You come here…," she seethed, beginning a slow advance. Her eyes were burning like two pieces of coal and another lump of coal seemed to have settled on her chest. "…uninvited. You wipe me off with the back of your hand as if I was some stain in New York when I call to apologize, and then you come again! Why, Legolas? So you can rub it into my face a little longer? So you can keep reminding me that I was wrong and selfish and stupid?"

Legolas held her gaze evenly. "No," was all he said. "I came to apologize myself. It was a mistake to speak to you like that. I am sorry." Irulan halted a few steps away and he shifted on his feet, his eyes locked to hers. "It is not my way of dismissing people so easily - especially when they have been dear to me. I acted wrong."

"There it is again! You apologize!" she exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "This is you being wonderful once more. This is you being right!" She gave him a long look. "Your every act, your every step, Legolas, only proves my humanity further."

He stood, at a loss of words, furious and confused at the same time. "Are you mad?!" he finally said, his tone echoing in the opening. "What is this habit of you dissecting yourself constantly underneath this silly loop?!"

"I don't need a loop to see how full of flaws I am," Irulan said stiffly, suddenly anxious because of his reaction.

"I LOVED those flaws!" Legolas exclaimed, taking another step and standing very close to her. To her dismay, her anger was being swiftly replaced with his. "I LOVED you with all you were and all you were not!" He didn't say it, but it rung between them nevertheless. 'I loved you and it was that kind of love you refused.'

"True enough," Irulan managed to stammer in return as she turned a peculiar red with shame. Though her tone of voice only betrayed more anger. "You loved me to pieces, Legolas!" His blue eyes lit with a dangerous flicker to that, but she ignored it. "So much that I can't breathe! Don't you see what I am? I am free."

"And alone," he spat finally and it shut her up. They held each other's gaze for a long time. "I know, because I am both, too," he said finally, sounding very tired and disappointed. "I was ready to give it up. More than ready, actually." He chuckled bitterly and raised his eyes to the surrounding thick forest. "You have no idea how long I have waited for you. How can you?" His piercing gaze made her uncomfortable and she cast her eyes down. "It doesn't matter any longer," Legolas said then and turned away from her. His tone had gained a formal tone once more. "What I called 'love' you called 'oppression'. Whatever it was, it is over now."

Of all the things he said, this was probably the worst. Because now that he said it, Irulan realized that in the deepest chamber of her heart, she had been hoping for something else. She had come here not to run from Legolas as she had thought initially. She had come here to face him and what he meant for her, once and for all. How tragic that nobody really knew what they wanted or what they were doing!

The shock and sadness on her face was too much for him. For hours now he was trying to control his mind and his emotions, sitting behind her in silent agony, wanting nothing more than to embrace her and kiss her. He pinched the bridge of his nose, eager to still his anger, his frustration, his passion. He felt himself approaching a cliff and it wouldn't do to jump it. No, it wouldn't do at all.

But the jump happened against all his better judgment. "What on earth do you want from me?!" he yelled suddenly and honestly, never having heard Legolas yell like that, Irulan jumped and hastily took two steps back. The fire in his eyes was incredible and she felt her heart beginning to thump with fear. Amazed and afraid at the same time she stood, unable to move from her spot as he burned her with his blue gaze. "What do you want, Irulan?" he panted and she shook her head in reply – the only movement she felt capable of, at the moment. "Do you want me to apologize? I will! Do you want me to confess that all that went wrong was MY fault? I WILL!" He took a step towards her and she inched back. Surprisingly, no one moved during all this time and merely watched with the same shock that must have been adorning her own face. "I can't fall too much further from where I am, believe me, so ask me anything you want. ASK!"

It was then that she saw Russel move towards them out of the corner of her eye and the fear she felt for Legolas at the moment made it feel like a rescue. "N-nothing," she stammered when the elf refused to look away and pierced her soul with those eyes of his. She cleared her throat and swallowed. Eye contact literally hurt her eyes but she forced herself to keep it. "Nothing, Legolas. I...I might have gone too far and I'm...sorry." With dismay Irulan realized that indeed, she had gone too far. Was she the very same woman who had told Legolas to go back and be with Amanda? Now it seemed like she was blaming him for it. Shame rose in her face again. "I just...I don't know! I think...I mean why are you like that to me?"

"Like what?" he hissed, taking another step while Irulan took another back. "Forgiving? Kind? Like what, Irulan?!"

"L-like..like THAT!" she yelled finally. "I love you, Legolas, and you treat me like..."

"Stop," he whispered and she halted when he rose his palm, his face becoming even more furious. "Stop, Irulan!" She bit her lip and decided to obey. He breathed hard, once, twice and only then locked eyes with her again. "I am done with deception. Don't EVER say it again!" His voice was calm and low, but the words hit her like a punch in the stomach, anyway.

"But it's true," she whispered and flinched at the look he gave her. For a moment she seriously thought Legolas would slap her in the face. And with a force that would leave her brain damaged for life. She had no doubt that he had a capacity for violence –his whole life spoke of that- but never before had she thought that she might actually experience that first-hand.

"No, it's not," he seethed and made to turn around.

"Legolas, please!" she said then and took two steps toward him. He halted, but seemed no less angry. "I said I'm sorry! And I meant it! Granted, I deserve punishment for all that I did but I can make up for it! I can!"

Slowly, very slowly he turned around. He gave Russel, who stood a few steps further away now, a dismissive glance before he sneered at her. "What will you do?" he said softly, the amusement and disgust in his tone very obvious. "Another pledge of honor, Irulan?" It was a surprise to hear it and Irulan blinked, unable to react. "Even that would fall short this time. And there is no need, anyway," he added lighter, now shifting to stand more leisurely, even though the tenseness emanating from him was nowhere less. A long moment passed. Finally he took a deep breath and slowly, softly said "I will forgive you, Irulan. Let it be my wedding present to you."

"You are so...so...IMPOSSIBLE!" she said heatedly and rolled her fingers into fists. A slight shiver ran up her spine, but for the moment it was rather unimportant. "I KNOW I deserved this! I KNOW! And yet it hurts to see you doing to me what you would do any other! Can't you see that?" To her own irritation, she felt tears welling up again and knew that she didn't possess the strength to hold them back. At least Legolas seemed baffled by that last comment. And if she dared to hope, even a bit embarrassed. So she hung on to that anger and continued shouting. "Have I been this cruel to you? Have I?!" A sob rose from her throat, but Irulan continued, her voice breaking. "And yes...I think I have." Russel made as if he meant to come to her but Irulan held up her hand, preventing his movement. "I wish I had died before, Legolas," she whispered when she felt composed enough to continue. "If you have suffered as much as I do right now –and I know you suffered more- I know that I am already beyond anyone's forgiveness."

A terrible dismay settled on Legolas' face, then and she knew that she had forced him into regret. Although this was not what Irulan wanted. What she wanted was, actually, to lie down and die because all of a sudden all had lost its meaning.

"Irulan...," he said slowly and took a step closer but she hastily took two back, shaking her head vigorously.

"No!" Then, softer "No."

A long silence issued and Legolas fisted his palms as well. He took another step towards her, determined to throw all caution and all rules into Hell, when Russel said "Irulan is getting MARRIED?"

Another silence as she sniffed on and finally turned towards him. It took all his willpower not to strangle the man, then. Obviously his intention was obvious on his face because Russel had the audacity to continue. "To whom?"

"Don't be silly, Russel," she sighed tiredly and proceeded to wipe her cheeks.

"Then why did you say that?" he said to Legolas, persistent.

Legolas took a deep breath and decided to do what mortals were so fond of doing at moments like this. Count to ten. "Don't you think that it is time for a confession, Russel?" was his tired question.

Even Irulan looked up at the man with curiosity, at that. But Russel just stared from one to the other and back. "Confession? Like what?"

All right now this was unbearable! He had just broken his word to Anne, true, but his current anger towards this man prevented any kind of sympathy on his behalf. Let him be embarrassed a little, too! Let him be aggravated, scared and clueless, too! "Stop your games!" he hissed and turned to fully face him. "I'm not in the mood to take them!"

"What is going on?" Irulan said meekly, but didn't receive a reply for many minutes.

"I told you," Legolas said, his eyes still glued on the other man. "You didn't believe me. But I told you." Only then did he glance back at Irulan. "I told you that he wanted more than just friendship. And you thought I was exaggerating."

"Wha...." Russel's mouth fell open and so did Irulan's. They slowly turned to stare at each other as if they were seeing each other for the first time.

"What the hell is he saying, Russel?" she whispered and it was ironic that nothing up tho this point had shocked her more than Legolas' last words.

Instead of her, he turned to the elf and the first signs of anger were on his face, as well. Irulan noted Anne, Mona and Haldir coming towards the group as well and the way things were going, it seemed like a necessary thing. "What the hell ARE you saying?" he hissed. I was obvious that Russel stood no chance against Legolas if fists came to fly, but at the moment, both seemed to have forgotten about that little detail.

"I am saying," Legolas began, his voice like sword swishing over dark velvet, "that you have won. You won, Russel! You took her from me and though I resented you for it, now I'm thinking that I am indeed undeserving of her." He gave a tired, exasperated sigh as the rest of the company arrived, glancing from one figure to the other. When he spoke again, there was sadness in his eyes and he was looking at Irulan. "Congratulations is all I'm going to say."

For Legolas, this was the end of the world. He pursed his lips and shook his head, lowering his gaze. He had just officially given the love of his life away. Not that she had ever been his to give away! Nevertheless, he had openly admitted defeat and the end of whatever there had once been between them. It was supposed to be the right thing, but at the moment he felt like a coward, a betrayer and a loser all at once and the hurt was beyond anything.

"What on earth..." murmured Russel and gazed back at Irulan, who looked at him with a mixture of horror and disbelief.

"Er...is there a problem?" Anne said weakly, hoping for a miracle. If an earthquake dared to hit them this moment, she would probably be the only one not regretting it.

"This...thing," spat Russel, now sounding offended as well as surprised, "has finally lost his mind, that's what happened! He thinks that me and Irulan...I don't know what he thinks! He is mad, I tell you!" The yelling had left him panting and he realized with horror then that Anne, too, might believe this cruel joke. "It's not true!" he hastily added, his voice quivering with a bit of panic.

"Isn't it?" Legolas said suddenly. He dared not look at Irulan, out of pure shame and ache, but he had enough irritation in him to look at Russel. "Anne," he said then, turning to the blonde woman with an aloof gaze and pretending to be indifferent to it all, "isn't it, Anne?"

Now that ALL of them were staring at her, the prayer for an earthquake became rather frantic. Anne swallowed hard, tried to think of a quick prayer, couldn't think of a single one, shifted from foot to foot, stared in turn at Irulan, Russel and Legolas and kept her mouth wisely shut.

A long minute passed. "Anne?" Irulan said then. Her voice held no anger –yet- but rather a hope for support.

Again she squirmed in the face of the inevitable and tried to pray. To no end. Even God seemed to have seen the punishment fit, by the looks of it. "Well...how would I know?" she blurted finally. Both Irulan and Russel's mouth fell open.

"But you DO know," Legolas pressed on, now looking down at her rather icily. She turned to Russel and he was giving her his fiery gaze, a slight dawning in his eyes. Between fire and ice, Anne chose silence again.

Russel took a deep breath and held it for a moment or two before he spoke again. "What did you tell him, Anne?" It sounded tired and though Anne was proud to say ever so often that she had no conscience, the hurt look on his face did funny things to her heart. She had nothing to say, so she stood quiet, feeling suddenly stupid and unnecessary.

"Anne...did you tell Lord Legolas that..." Haldir tried, but the Prince was faster.

"That Russel means to wed Irulan, yes. And I promised not to tell. For that I am sorry, Anne," Legolas said with great confidence, honorably trying to protect her. She should not be the one to suffer for telling the truth, after all. "Alas, I didn't tell them. They guessed it themselves." It was only true and he felt a bit better for it. After all, he hadn't said the very words and he was also glad that it came out in the open and had spoiled Russel's indented romantic proposal. The feeling of satisfied vengeance spread in him.

The yell from Russel was certainly not the expected reaction. "She WHAT??!!"

The shout was so loud that both Irulan and Legolas were startled off. They stared at each other while a moment passed. Then again: "That's IT!!"

Russel literally threw himself at a shocked Anne. If not for Haldir, he probably would have succeeded in grabbing her, too. "If I get my hands on you!" seethed Russel a few minutes later, now gaining back his calm, but losing nothing of his fury. He attempted to jump, but Haldir blocked him, rather efficiently- though the man seemed to be oblivious to his presence.

"Calm down! This is not a matter to be handled with anger!"

"Yes! Listen to Haldir!" Anne shouted, trying to sound unafraid.

"You...You....arrrgghhh!" Again, Russel tried to lurch forward and again he was pressed back.

He tried one more lurch, but Haldir was an impassable wall. Finally he pushed himself back and stood panting, great strain on his face. Many moments later his eyes found Legolas. "All this time, you have deceived us."

Irulan, too, had accusation in her eyes when she met his gaze. Legolas, now not only surprised, but also a bit angry that again the bill for all the crime was delivered to him, hissed in return. "Anne has trusted me with a secret. Surely it's no crime to honor that. Deceived you? Don't YOU talk to me about deception!"

"Enough!" shouted Haldir then and held up his hands. Everyone but Legolas stilled, then, because the fury that was pulsing out of the Marchwarden was red hot and blazing. "Enough with this childishness!" His voice gained almost an inhuman quality and it was strange to hear it echo slightly after he finished talking as the sentence was thrown back and forth amongst the rocks.

"Childishness?" Russel chuckled and shook his head. He took a deep breath and glanced into the distance before he fixed the Marchwarden once more. "My best friend told my other best friend that I mean to marry her. Thinking that I am actually helping her, I have been dragged to a trip and treated very KINDLY" with that, he gave Legolas a poisonous look, "by the Great Lord here. You call this childish?"

For a long time there was only the chirping of birds and the gurgling of the river.

"Eh..." Anne gulped finally. "Irulan...I didn't really say _that_!" The look she received in return told her plainly that Irulan didn't believe a single word.

To Anne's terror, she turned to Legolas instead. The elf sighed and looked at Anne, who was moving her lips frantically, begging him to lie. 'Why should I lie now?' he thought then. 'I never promised to lie. Also, what do I have to win now? I have lost it all.' He straightened his shoulders. "I am sorry, Anne. But I refuse to lie. And I don't see why you should be ashamed when it was only the truth you were speaking."

Irulan swallowed and looked down on the grass. 'I don't believe it,' she thought, not certain if she should laugh out of fury or go and kill Anne.

"You, Russel," Legolas hissed then, finally free to express his fury about the matter, "should be ashamed of yourself! Even now that the truth has surfaced, you are unable to face it." His crystal orbs fixed Irulan, then. "THIS is what you prefer over me, Irulan? He can not even admit loving you!" There was a certain satisfaction in this act – she should see it. Only maybe then would she regret her treatment of him. 'Maybe even regret enough to take you back, Legolas?' was the amused question in his head.

There was distinctive anger in her eyes when she looked up at him. "As always, your jealousy is crippling your brain, Legolas." He blinked, taken aback by that. STILL she would defend him?! He opened his mouth to say that he wasn't jealous, then realized that it would be a lie and closed it. Thankfully Russel spoke just then:

"The only consolation I have in this madness," sighed Russel, getting up and shaking his jacket clean, "is that you, too, have been fooled. Welcome to the club, Legolas."

Another silence followed and this time Legolas did indeed join the confusion of the rest, leaving only Haldir out. "How do you mea...?"

"I mean that is a blatant, pure, evil lie and worse – you friggin fell for it!" Russel said, glancing at Anne again. "I wouldn't marry Irulan if she offered to pay me for it! Sorry, Irulan."

She just waved her hand in a dismissive gesture, still not looking up. "This can not be true," was the Prince's confused and cautious statement. His mind went over the times Russel and him had talked about Irulan and love and he fixed his eyes on the other man. "Either you have lied to me when you said that you were in love, before, or you are lying now."

"I haven't lied in either case, you fool!" screamed Russel. The atmosphere was so absurd that Legolas did not take offense at the blatant attitude and Russel did not feel intimidation.

"What then..." the elf began, but was cut off again.

"I AM in love. But NOT with Irulan!"

Another interlude of the sound of gurgling stream and chirping birds.

Finally Russel sighed in the thick silence and combed his hand through his hair. When he turned to glance at Anne, there was nothing but tired surrender in his glance. A long moment passed while both Anne and Irulan waited, holding their breath – one in shock, the other anxious to hear a declaration finally come into the light. "But at this moment...I wish it was Irulan. It would have been the RIGHT person," he mumbled, his eyes fixed on the blonde woman.

For another long moment, nothing happened. Finally it was Irulan who broke the immobility and walked up to Russel, taking his hand. He swallowed and looked down at their fingers, his grasp strong with desperation. After going through humiliation, being pushed around during the whole trip, resented by Legolas, worrying for Irulan, hiding the truth from Anne...he felt depleted and worse than he had ever felt in his entire life.

"Sssshhhh...it's okay," she whispered and he barely kept himself from whimpering. He inched closer and leaned his head on her shoulder, giving her a fierce embrace and Irulan mirrored it, patting him on the back.

Legolas and Haldir exchanged glances and found nothing to say to each other. Anne looked too dumbfounded to act in any manner.

"Come," Irulan whispered to him and without giving the others a glance, led him away. No one had the heart to interfere.

"I can not believe you did that to me," hissed Legolas finally and with that, Anne turned to lock eyes with him.

"Sorry, Legolas," she whispered, sounding at the brink of tears.

"You ruined everything!" he cut her off, looking incredibly calm, but also very furious. "Everything that has led us to this point is your fault, Anne."

She opened her mouth to object and say that she was not the one to squish Russel against a building in Chinatown or to take Amanda out for dinner while trying to mend his relationship with Irulan, but at the last moment, decided against it and shut it. Instead, she managed a weak shrug that spoke of defeat. "I did it to bring you guys together."

"Instead, you tore us apart for good!" was the last hiss before the Prince walked away.


	16. Face to Face

_Wow! So many reviews! And quite some bitter ones, too! Come now you guys...I know how frustrating it can be when one is awaiting the update of a story. On the other hand - cheer up because it's here! _

_For everyone who dropped in to say kind words about me and the story in general - thank you! I will reply as many as I can, but please do write your e-mail if you are not logged in. For everyone who was angry for the delay - eh...you are absolutely right! I have excuses - such as visitors from overseas and being sick for a few weeks and all - but I don't want to bore you with that. Apologies is all I'm going to say. _

_Now...we reach a much awaited confrontation. There is still a lot that will happen in the story...so enjoy it while you can._

* * *

"And so it ends," he thought as he listened to the rumble of stones crawling into place. "When, then, has it begun?"

He turned to give the man beside him a sidelong glance. Baeron stood, his long, sand blonde hair harshly cropped, his sun kissed face unreadable in the dimness of the house. The shock of seeing him in different attire, his gorgeous hair cut so short had been swift and painful. There had been no need to talk – Legolas had known right then and there that Baeron meant to leave Egypt and probably never return.

He sighed and waited for the rumble and shaking to cease. It did so, merely moments later, yet Baeron didn't move and neither did Legolas. They remained, listening to the emptiness. To the silent goodbye of another loved one. To the eerie whisper of mortality. Though a melody much used, it still felt sharp and tasteless.

It was many minutes later that Baeron walked out and his friend followed him. The moon stood full and bloating in the dark sky and the cool desert wind whipped the dunes. They walked out into the sand then climbed away from the house. Neither spoke, and for a long time there was only the slight shifting of their feet or their soft breathing. When they finally reached the summit, with Bentanta's tomb underneath them, Baeron sank onto the rock and Legolas followed suit.

A long time passed. Dunes shifted under the blue gaze of the moon, shadows of clouds preyed on each other. The desert seemed absolute and if one remained long enough, it became hard to imagine a place where life dwelt. This remote, isolated part of the world seemed to be both a haven and a prison at the same time. Unchanging, unbending, unconquerable it hummed in the silence of the night.

"How long?" Baeron whispered at length. "How long until the last living person forgets her?" Legolas didn't answer. Though his arguments on the matter held concerning why everything had come to this point, he could not help but feel awkwardly guilty. Another long moment passed and some animal hooted in the far off distance. "How long before I forget her?" he added with an almost inaudible whisper as his head hung to his chest.

Legolas pursed his lips and looked up to the star-dotted sky that was an incredible canvas on the Earth. He wanted to tell Baeron that it would be a few years. Maybe a few dozen. At worst a few hundred until he forgot Bentanta. Baeron spoke of undying love but Legolas had discovered that the only undying thing in the world was the longing for the past and the bitterness of its pull.

Baeron took a ragged breath and glanced up at the moon. "Never before," he murmured at last, "have I wished to be gifted with mortality as much as I do this moment."

The Prince turned to him, startled. Not for the first time, Legolas sensed darkly that he might have truly underestimated Baeron's feelings for the Egyptian princess. He wanted to say something – not knowing whether it would be a blame or condolences and kept himself busy by looking down towards the shadowed rocks. "We killed her, you know," Baeron added then and the Prince started, turned to find the hazel eyes of the other set on him. "Don't forget that, Legolas," he added with a low, dark voice as the words slowly fell from his lips and his eyes never blinked. "Don't dare to believe one day that it wasn't us. That she died by her own hand." The eminent threat and anger in that voice made the Prince take a deep breath, trying to keep his own emotions in check.

"Maybe you think I'm not hurt by this," he said finally as the cool desert breeze past by him. "I loved her, too."

"You," Baeron breathed suddenly, unfolding from his position like an animal ready to pounce and looking the other elf straight in the eye, "don't know what love IS!"

Legolas, taken aback by the hatred in those usually playful and respectful orbs only managed to glare back while Baeron stared at him and stared at him and finally, many silent and tense moments later, chose to slowly rise, give the Prince one last baleful look and then left, climbing down the mountain without turning back. He would never set foot on Egyptian soil after that for many centuries. Until he returned to this place to join Bentanta in her never-ending sleep.

Legolas remained behind, gazing at the star spotted sky for long hours, engulfed in deep thought. 'And so it ends,' he thought again, sitting alone in a place that held no life and no promise of it. Everything in Egypt felt suddenly rotten and stunk of death. Where had all the glamour gone? Where was the excitement he had felt when he first set foot on this enchanted land? The evaporation of pleasure only left distaste behind. "When, then, has it begun?"

* * *

The world seemed to be a tide of hope and the loss of it. Legolas Thandruillion walked in the twilight of his emotions, caught in a dance of opposites. 

It is a strange thing – to have traveled so far and to have come so short a distance. He felt both ancient and as foolish as only the young can be, at the same time. How can one explain such a whirlwind, such a tempest? Perhaps no Man can and no Elf would try to.

He found no answers on the rocky hills. The whispering bamboo held no solutions. The moon was silent and somber. The long, untamed grass mute. Only after many hours of seeking did he recall what Confucius used to say – that all solutions loved to lie with the problems themselves, like pups lying with their mother. Only then –and with a very heavy heart– he realized that he would not find anything anywhere until he visited the center of the universe. The center of HIS universe...Irulan.

When Legolas returned from his overly long stroll through the rocky valley, Irulan and Russel still weren't back. Haldir had lit a campfire and Anne was sitting by it. She only glanced at him when he returned, his anger fairly cooled and then directed her looks to the flames, once more. It was somewhat dark and he was beginning to worry. He decided to seek them out.

He didn't have to look for long and in a few minutes of tracking through the thick bamboo forest, found them leaning against a rock in the middle of it, seemingly engaged in a silly discussion concerning who had actually cried while watching soap operas and whose eyes merely got wet. He watched them chuckle in hushed voices for a few minutes until he felt intrusive, so he cleared his throat to announce his presence.

Both Russel and Irulan were startled out of their reverie and blinked, looking in his direction. He stepped out of the shadows into the bluish moonlight. "It is late..." he began, his tone cautious. "I thought you might be hungry. Or cold."

Russel and Irulan exchanged a short look. Finally he sighed and got up, smoothing his cargo pants. "Thanks," was his cold reply before he walked towards Legolas and moved to pass by him. The other, though he stepped aside, spoke his name just as Russel was passing. Their eyes locked for a moment and Russel thought that with that look in his eyes and under the light of the moon, Legolas was so elvish that it would be impossible to think of him as something else. "I want to apologize. For my treatment of you." Russel didn't react. "I was wrong and I hope that you will find it in you to forgive me."

Russel gave him a long look and though he had been determined never EVER to forgive Legolas again (and poison his food or something at the first given chance), it was impossible not to be impressed –to say the least- when one faced the man in person. He opened his mouth, then closed it, not certain what exactly he should say. Legolas' blue gaze was not easy to hold, so he shifted a bit on his feet, scratching his beard. Thankfully the other man spoke once more before he felt forced to make a comment. "I know, of course, that it will not be easy for you to do so." The elf sighed and glanced shortly at Irulan before he continued with a more urgent and softer voice. "But...if you could put yourself in my place…!"

'Damn!' Russel thought and scratched his beard again. 'I should tell him that he is a freak of nature and that he should stay the hell away from Irulan!' Only the truth was that after his initial fury had faded away, he had replayed all his interactions with the elf and realized –to his own displeasure- that the motivation behind Legolas' hostility could indeed have been this sick story that Anne had fed him. And…well…if someone had convinced him that another guy was after Anne… He sighed in frustration and spoke before he could think and change his mind. "As a matter of fact…I can." The surprise on the elf's face made him clear his throat and add "I mean…I COULD. Try to put myself in your shoes, that is." He exhaled in frustration, damning the ability of the man to unnerve him like this and make him feel about five years old. "Look, the truth is, I thought about this...and...well, I guess if I thought the same of you and Anne...I would have acted a bit...rash, too."

Legolas smiled dryly. "I doubt that," was his late reply, accompanied by a sigh. To Russel's surprise the elf clasped him on the shoulder. "For all that matters – I think your admittance was the right thing to do, even though the manner might seem wrong."

Russel grimaced and nodded. He looked over his shoulder to Irulan who chose that moment to get up and walk in the other direction, deeper into the forest. "Do me a favor..." he said, his voice trailing as his eyes remained glued to her until she disappeared in the dark, "...don't let her get lost."

Only then did he turn around to look Legolas in the eye and the elf intuitively knew that he meant more than just the simple sentence he had uttered. He nodded in agreement and slowly extended his hand. Russel gave it a wary look, then met his eyes once more. A moment passed between them, then ended when the man took and shook the offered hand. "Thank you," he whispered to Russel and received a polite nod in return.

The man made as if to turn away then, but hesitated and faced the elf once more. "One more thing," he murmured, giving him a hasty glance. "That letter…I mean her goodbye-letter," he added with exasperation, waving his hand.

"Yes?"

"It was fake," he finished curtly, unable to find another way around it.

Legolas was very silent for a moment and his face remained unreadable. "Irulan never wrote a letter," the Prince said slowly and it didn't hold the tone of a question, but rather a dry discovery. Russel pursed his lips and nodded mutely. "So she never meant to harm herself…or say farewell to New York forever." Again, a mute nod. The Prince took a deep breath and watched the man before him massage his neck with unease. It was a surprise not to feel angry and Legolas was certain that if he gave himself enough chances and enough time, he would be very capable of anger. However, standing in the middle of a bamboo forest and knowing that you had already hit the bottom of the well, another deceit was not as terrible as it should be. As a matter of fact, he almost wanted to chuckle at the irony.

"I'm sorry," Russel added then and their gazes met once again. "Anne is…" he let out a frustrated sigh, "…she can be really…difficult." He gave the elf a wary glance. "Looks like she managed to drag us both to an imaginary mission."

Legolas gave a nod and to the other man's surprise, smiled a deft smile. "However," was the cautious statement, "neither you, nor me thought of checking the facts she offered us." The confusion on Russel's visage made him smile broader and continue. "Perhaps we WANTED to believe what she said."

Russel shrugged his signature shrug, obviously disturbed by that idea. Legolas received a last glance, then a polite nod, then watched the man shuffle his way towards the camp. Only after that did he turn to look towards where Irulan had disappeared. He took a deep breath and smiled to himself when his feet moved without further thought. 'Gimli should see me now!' he mused as the shadow of the bamboo fell on him. 'What a mighty Prince I make!'

Irulan walked, parting the wall off bamboo around her. He was being intentionally loud, striding after her but there was no need for that - she knew that Legolas would follow. He always followed. She allowed herself a few moments of silence, just to still her head and her heart. She had been thinking for hours what to say and how to say it…battling herself, fighting Russel…but now that he was right behind her, it seemed harder than imagined. It seemed much later when she finally stopped, gazing into the dark outline of plants.

"I dreamt of Baeron," she whispered out of nowhere and he stilled behind her. The moon was throwing specks of blue and white on her like flower petals and he watched her strained back, waiting for her to continue. "I THINK it was a dream," she added a long moment later. Again, he found nothing to say, so he stood in respectful and wary silence. "He said that I have changed." Her voice was deep and ragged and he could feel the emotion behind it. Still not daring to advance, he lingered where he was, trying to read her. "I don't think he meant it in a good way." She turned to face him then, and their eyes met.

Legolas thought then that there was something quite odd about the fact that Irulan and he had lived through so much in such a short time. Her eyes were full with expressions that only two lovers who had shared many, many years together would reflect. "We have known each other for only such a short time," she murmured, very slightly cocking her head, "and still...I can't remember a life without you, Legolas. Isn't that strange?"

Did she mean that in a good way? In a bad way? Her tone and her expression were hard to read. She didn't seem to be the fiery, passionate Irulan at this moment, at all. She seemed...too calm, almost. As if she was floating in a dream. Judging it to be the wisest course, he waited on.

"I mean," she said at last, taking a ragged breath and glancing around for the first time, "I mean I almost don't know you at all...but when I look back at my life, all I remember is the time I had with you."

He dared to smile a little, then. "Though my life has been far longer," he said softly, "I feel the same way about you, Irulan."

She nodded, as if expecting that answer. Crickets chirped around them and for a while all they did was to listen. Irulan looked at him for a long time. "Now you know how it feels to be manipulated by the people you love," she said suddenly into the silence. Her voice was very slow and cautious, but it hit Legolas with unforeseen force, nevertheless. His head snapped up and their eyes locked, but he found nothing to say in the face of the sorrow and hurt he witnessed there. "It hurts, doesn't it, Legolas?"

A long moment passed. He nodded, taking a ragged breath. "It hurts," he whispered, suddenly feeling the shame and the weakness returning full force. "A lot."

She took a step towards him and he clenched his jaws with the effort of keeping his feelings from pulsing out. The agony clawed his insides but he kept still from the outside. "Even though it was done with good intentions, it still hurts, doesn't it?"

He nodded again, then swallowed to ease the pain. Irulan cocked her head again and gave him a discerning look. "Were you never fooled like this, before?" There was surprise in her tone.

Legolas smiled a bitter smile. "Of course I was," he chuckled and bit his lower lip. "But," he sighed, locking eyes with her again, "never did I lose so much as a result of it."

It was only true. Who cared about the loss of political status or possessions or fame? It had only been surprising and often infuriating to find out that you had fallen for someone smarter and more cunning than yourself. But this time...this time there was something so much more important at stake and although Legolas had turned around and laughed at the past deeds with a light heart once enough time had passed, he found nothing funny about the fact that such seemingly innocent games had cost him Irulan.

He gazed into the green, swishing forest and took a deep breath. All the things he had done to save this relationship had, one by one, trembled and fallen like monuments founded on quicksand. He had been so sure of himself…so proud of his work. But the gods had laughed at his vanity and had sunk all effort into the sands of time. His mind drifted to sand and dunes and before he knew it, the memory of that awful day in Egypt returned to him. Almost at the same time, Irulan's words from her magazine article hissed in his head…

_"Is there a way to defy the heart? The brain? Is there a path that leads out of this mass of meat that governs our lives, or does everything that enters it remain for all times to come - the good as well as the bad? Must all the seeds we sew into the tender earth of our spirits sprout? The weeds as well as the orchids? The poisonous vines as well as the lilacs?..._

Ages seemed to have stepped apart, revealing him sitting on the rocky hill, alone and separated from the world. He felt very much like he had felt then – small and unimportant. All his life he had been treated with importance. He had BEEN important and perhaps the only thing that made his duty, his life more bearable was the fact that in the end, he was good for something. That he was making a difference. That he WAS someone. Back then in Egypt that had been taken from him. And today once more, his importance seemed an illusion, a silly facade, merely a game of his mind. Who was he to ask for forgiveness? Who was he to make promises of amends?

"You are a gate to my past," he whispered at length. Irulan gave no indication of hearing him, still he continued. "I had so wished for you to be the gate to my future." Still she didn't respond and Legolas kept inspecting the forest around them, as if the dark shadows held the answers to his problems. "I feel old," he sighed, then chuckled, shaking his head. He should feel uncomfortable in laying himself bare to her like this, but as always, it felt only natural. "I am tired." He took a deep breath, the sharp tang of the bamboo clinging to his nostrils. "Everyone should have the right to step back, when the time comes."

Irulan watched him warily, not certain what he meant but eager to find out. He stood like that for a long time, gazing at the darkness, gazing at the bamboo, gazing at the moon. "I think now, it all happened for a reason."

"All?" she said finally.

He looked up, then, but gazed away again a moment later. "Baeron," was his sole reply. "Bentanta," he added a moment later. And finally "You."

"What do you mean, Legolas?" she whispered when he looked indecisive of continuing.

Legolas shifted on his feet, showing the slightest discomfort now. She waited out his silence. "Maybe it was the beginning of the end," he offered at last.

Irulan bit her lip. So much for cryptic elven speech. She took a step towards him and he looked up, this time meeting her eyes. "What on earth do you mean?"

"I mean," he sighed and pursed his lips, "I mean...I am tired. That's all I mean."

"Then...rest," she said with a slight shrug, feeling a bit foolish for the words, but having nothing else to offer.

"I think perhaps I will," he whispered, not tearing his eyes from hers.

There was something utterly dangerous in his eyes. It took a moment for Irulan to recognize defeat and it made her heart flutter. It was not a sight she wanted to see on Legolas. So she blurted the first thing that came to her mind. "You are a strong man, Legolas."

"I am tired of being strong," he said dismissively, waving his arm. He shifted again and it looked like he meant to leave, but couldn't bring himself to do so. "I am tired of a lot of things."

What could she say to that? Eternal life was, no doubt, something one could get VERY tired about. Irulan was not stupid enough to think that she could imagine how tired. "Is there nothing that...that...holds your heart?" she whispered, feeling alarmed by his words and not certain how to counter it. "I mean in life."

He looked at her for so long and with such an expression, that despite her efforts a blush crept to her cheeks. She stubbornly forced herself to hold his gaze, however. "_You_ hold my heart," was the answer that took her breath away. He didn't seem amused by it, or even self-confident. In fact, it sounded sad. Irulan pursed her lips and held on.

After what seemed like a small eternity, the elf gazed away again and she let out a breath she was not aware of holding. Suddenly Legolas made if to turn away, hesitated, gave her a quick glance and decided to leave after all. She blurted the first thing that came to her mind "Where are you going?"

He turned back slowly. "Away."

She didn't know if that meant the forest, China or the world altogether but she was not risking it by some silly guessing game. "You will leave me behind?" Thankfully it sounded incredulous enough and the elf halted, turned to give her surprised look.

"I will leave you in peace," he managed a long time later.

"Don't go," she whispered when he tried to turn away once more and once more Legolas hesitated. Maybe because he didn't really want to leave but merely felt forced to do so. He remained like that, statuesque in the moving, clanking bamboo forest. It seemed absurd. It seemed unreal. And yet it was more real than anything else she could remember. It was Irulan's turn to chuckle and to shift with unease. "Why can't I say the things in my heart?" she managed finally with a broken smile. "Why do I always say the wrong words and never the ones I really mean when it comes to you, Legolas?"

Legolas, who was observing her with wary surprise tried to decipher her words. It was hard with his emotions hammering down on him. "Do you fear me, Irulan?" he murmured a long moment later.

"No!" she blurted, massaging her neck. Then "Yes." Their eyes met again and for one moment it felt silly to be standing in front of this creature and feeling normal about it. There was nothing normal about their relationship – never had been, from day one. "I fear you," she confessed at last. "But you know...I fear your loss, more."

A long time passed. Though her best efforts, all the words that came to her mind seemed foolish and unnecessary. The forest around them whispered and the bamboo branches drummed in the stillness of the night with an odd rhythm. It seemed as good a setting as any to walk away from war and destruction and try to remember a time when there was peace and love. "I have tried not to love you," she whispered finally, inspecting her feet. "Believe me, I really tried." She smiled a wry smile and glanced up at the elf who tried to reply in the same fashion, but failed at it. "I failed." She chuckled a little, almost embarrassed. "I failed utterly." Irulan sighed, her voice becoming a mere murmur in the sea of swish and sighs, "And I hated myself for it. I thought myself weak. I hated you. It was easier than facing the truth." A very long moment passed and in her mind Irulan relived the times she had spent with him last summer. The elf stood a few steps away, quiet but his attention fixed on her, heavy and solid in its intensity.

"I came here to find myself. To leave you behind for good." Again she halted, the words like beads inside her throat, refusing to come out. Why did it take this much pain to reach relief? Just to ease it, she chuckled again and shook her head. "I know now that this is impossible." She forced herself to look him straight in the eye after that. "I still love you. Despite everything. And I think I always will," she added almost with a whisper.

There it was. Irulan dared an inhalation of relief. The truth -as ugly, plain and naked as can be- was finally in the open. Maybe this meant that she was a weak woman. Maybe it meant that she had no pride. But that mattered little at this moment. Because it was the truth and it overshadowed every silly, glamorous lie by far.

Barely a moment later he spoke, his voice almost lyrical and sad. "Do you remember the day in Rome?" Irulan took a deep breath and closed her eyes. How could she forget? It seemed so recent...and yet a lifetime ago. At last she nodded slowly. "I realized many things that day." She looked up finally, meeting his sparkling gaze. The bamboo sighed around then and a gust of warm air caressed her face. Irulan had long ago realized that Legolas had this peculiar ability to make the atmosphere around him strangely...unreal. She wasn't sure if he did it intentionally, but she doubted it. 'Maybe it is his emotions streaming from him and affecting me,' she had thought, before. Or maybe it was the plain fact that she was madly in love with him. But she liked to think that there was something deeply magical and beautiful about him and that it shone at moments like this, painting a dull and rather silly setting with colors of enchantment. Such was the incident now as she gazed up to his eyes and Legolas looked back with an expression she didn't feel fit to read.

He sighed shortly and continued. "I realized that I have wasted a lifetime belittling and ignoring love. I understood with your words that I have lived a lifetime taking satisfaction in the fact that any woman would bend to my will and desire me and that this was all a man could wish to have. That this was what love was all about." Irulan swallowed and tried to keep his heated gaze. It was no easy task. "Everyone has loved me for the wrong reasons, Irulan," he said finally and she held her breath. It felt incredibly sincere and intimate to be sharing such a confession. "I want you to..." he hesitated momentarily "...I want you to love me...for no reason at all."

She swallowed slowly and walked up to him. Something shifted in the air between them and her steps faltered momentarily as her pulse quickened despite herself. The last time she had felt that had been with Baeron, at the final time they had Shared and she recognized it immediately. She would recognize it anytime, anywhere. It was the sensation of an elf shedding all pretense and leaving all safe covers and havens behind to stand open, pure and naked. Her heart pounded on with the realization and she felt her throat dry up as she finally arrived before him and dared to look up.

"Baeron used to say that we are all toys of Fate," she offered with a whisper, "Do you think it's true, Legolas?"

He took a ragged breath and lifted his hand to gently cup her cheek. The fact that Irulan was merely a child next to him was heavy and acute in the air around them. A sadness came over him at the fact that despite that, he held no answers. At least none she wanted to hear.

"Don't we have a say in things at all?" she pleaded, her eyes locked to his, begging for a denial.

"I don't know," he said finally, unable to delay the disappointment any longer. She pursed her lips and watched his hand descend to find hers. "Perhaps Fate brought you to me," he said finally, his long fingers entwining with hers, "But the choices were mine, Irulan. Both the right and the wrong ones." She met his eyes again and the love he felt for her became something almost surreal in its volume and sharpness.

"I made choices, too," she murmured finally. "And mistakes."

He nodded, feeling somewhat sad and not really sure why that was. "Fate can not force me to love you or you to love me. Fate can not urge me to want you as much as I have wanted you." Irulan watched a small, sad smile bloom on his lips. "It has thrown you in my way –or me in yours– but the rest is our tale."

A long string of minutes passed before Irulan nodded to herself. "You are right," Irulan murmured at last. "It's not being with YOU that makes me suffer. It's me. My fears, my indecisions, my...everything."

"And mine, too," he said gently. A long moment passed between them and Irulan wondered if he had laid some sort of spell on her. Though a rational part of her mind refused to believe that Legolas would ever abuse his power or effect over her or any other mortal like that, she thought that it was clearly miraculous that a certain understanding and also a strange relief washed over her at that realization. 'Fate hasn't made choices FOR me. I made them,' she thought, a slight frown settling on her face. How could one's regret become suddenly such a source of relief? How could one enjoy the mere thought that she had messed up but that it was not so bad because she had done so solely by herself and she was free to do so, again. She nodded unconsciously, feeling both miserable and at the same time, happy to know that at least it wasn't the divine powers torturing them, but themselves. Finally, smiling at the oddity of it all Irulan looked up to find a similar smile on his lips.

Legolas, finding himself in a rather much unexpected and unforeseen setting, reached down and pulled both her hands into his. There was an incredible heaviness in his heart and he felt like if he dared to walk away, to turn around now, he should not stop walking and walk right into the ocean and wave goodbye to life. He felt that if she refused him now, she might as well refuse him forever. That there was simply no point in the game of persuasion or the insistence on the hunt, any longer. He felt that if this story ended today in China, it had ended for all times to come.

It was a surprise to realize that he didn't want that to happen. Incredible but Legolas, who had always believed life to be a burden, that he had chosen the longer and far heavier road, that he had never WANTED this burden to be loaded to his shoulders, found himself longing for more time, for more breath, for more opportunities. He inhaled softly, smelling the scent of the bamboo once more. It promised life. The pulse of her hands in his promised life. Everything promised life. He found himself in awe and in need of that.

If it had been a less grave moment, he would have laughed like a child at his discovery. After millennia, he still had the fire and the strength to continue! That is…and with that, his eyes fell on her once more…if she would accompany him. If she could be persuaded.

He decided to do some last, silly heroic deed. He dared to hope.

His grip on her hands became stronger and he pulled them up, meeting her eyes again. "We can do this!" he whispered harshly. "Together, we can." He looked at her, expecting a reply to that. His eyes reflected her own hope as well as anxiety, fear and boldness. "I am NOT giving up!" he insisted when she remained silent. "I WILL not give up, Irulan."

Irulan bit her lip when her heart broke into a gallop. In this place and time, she felt the reasons for their former break-up melting into the background. Why exactly had she left Legolas? She wasn't certain now. Why had she refused his advances? No particular reason came to her mind. She remembered feeling caged and being stubborn. She remembered feeling too proud and at times, too weak. But in the end...she could not remember why she would turn her back to life and choose the absence of things, simply because it felt safer.

The truth was, a life without Legolas was perhaps safer, but it was also incredibly dull, empty and pointless. He drove her mad at times, true. He broke her heart at other times - no denying that. But he was right in this much - she could choose freedom and remain all alone, or she could choose him and face the hectic road of an affair. It had been HER mistake to think that true love would come natural. ANY relationship meant effort and sacrifice. Any relationship meant ups and downs. But who on earth would be stupid enough to say that it wasn't worth it, in the end?

"What do you say?" he said slowly a moment later. "We can wipe the slate clean. We can try again." He hesitated before he briefly touched her hair, then grasped her hand once more. "We can set the battlements on fire."

Irulan blinked up at him, seeing him in a new light for the first time they had ever met. This was a man who had crossed half the globe to find her, even though he must have expected a rather harsh refusal. This was a man who had proved her over and over again that he regretted his mistakes and he would do his very best to make up for them.

The passionate love she had always felt for Legolas suddenly showed a hue she could not recall seeing, before. In a dark forest, surrounded by the resonating symphony of bamboo, in the farthest corner of the world, Irulan quite unexpectedly understood that Legolas would never intentionally disappoint her, lie to her, cheat on her, betray her, use or abuse her. Legolas would never force her into anything and he would put his life at risk to follow out a simple promise to her. He would never feel threatened by her career or by her independence and he would never force his own lifestyle or culture on her. Neither would he imprison her and shun her from sunlight.

All in all, she was as safe with him as a daughter would be with her parent. He loved her exactly in that unrelenting, ever-forgiving and always giving way that only family was capable of. Passion was an incredible thing and she could not imagine a time she would feel less excited merely by the sight of Legolas. But for her, the friendly, true and gentler love was a promise of much greater worth – it meant a companion in life. It meant someone she could trust and lean on. It meant someone who would hold her hand and steer her out of the mist.

Yes, Legolas would most probably always dominate her life in an intentional or unintentional fashion. If he had had the capability of changing for her, Irulan was certain that he would have done so a long time ago. Since he was still crushing potential admirers against brick walls, and flying thousands of miles despite her rejection, it was pretty obvious that he would be as adamant about her as ever. But -she sighed and gazed up at his figure waiting under the faint moonlight, so utterly still and twice as anxious- wasn't it a price worth paying? Who wanted a cut-out, molded model of their most idealistic dreams, anyway? Perfection was boring and she knew that if Legolas had been EXACTLY as she wished him to be, he would never be as attractive, irresistible and irreplaceable as he was now.

This, of course, didn't mean that she would accept his gentle tyranny. Most probably they would have many foul fights in the future and certainly a lot of cutlery was doomed to fly in the house. But yelling your lungs out about why the hell he had gone out and arranged a vacation when he absolutely knew that she had work to be done was, in the end, more fun than sitting at home, sipping tea and knowing that no surprises awaited you for the upcoming next year.

'Everything deserves a second chance,' she thought as she leaned her head on his shoulder. Her dream with Baeron slowly unfolded in her mind, then. 'I can not give up,' she thought as merely moments later his arms enveloped her and his warmth sizzled through her from head to toe. 'I will dust myself off and try again.'

"I want to try again," she mumbled into his shoulder a long moment later.

Legolas didn't trust himself to speak, so he simply held her and closed his eyes to enjoy the moment. The words seemed unreal, absurd and surreal all at the same time. It was one of those moments a person envisions for half a lifetime and when finally faced with it, can't be certain if it's another product of imagination, or this time the real thing. "So do I," he whispered back, trying to breathe deeply and feeling something squeezing his heart with incredible force.

He kissed her hair, embracing her stronger. He had come here certain that he had lost her forever and, instead, she was in his arms and he was given a second chance. Unwillingly his gaze drifted up to the stars. 'Even now, is my heart a toy for the gods?' he thought, feeling a lump forming in his throat and not knowing whether it was due to frustration or acute happiness. He embraced Irulan as if she was both his shield from that terrible possibility and the one he wanted to shelter, at the same time, and concentrated on the heart beating against his chest. It was a promise. It was the end of solitude. The end of torturous longing. The end of battle. If this was what defeat felt like, he was ready to lose over and over again.

She stirred then and slightly pulled back to look up at him. "We have so much to talk about!" she chuckled with slight embarrassment and discomfort.

Legolas did not loosen his grip as he gazed down at her. "Later," he whispered with a husky voice.

She hesitated, not certain if she should protest or not when he slowly leaned in and kissed her forehead. Irulan closed her eyes as his lips remained on her skin and sublime warmth filled her from head to toe. It was the sizzling of his emotions, she knew and she breathed deeply to let it wash over her as easily as possible. When she felt like the heat was so stuffing that it would leave her breathless, she risked trying it again "But…"

Legolas smiled as she trembled slightly in his arms. Irulan was cursed to be ever the rational one. But he was not in the mood to allow words and explanations steal the moment from him. He leaned in and placed his lips on hers, the feeling of surprise and shock at his own boldness only a distant buzz at this point.

He pulled back slightly, their eyes met and he read the wonder in hers, knowing it reflected the same sentiment in his. Her taste slowly bloomed in his mind like some sort of madness that blocked everything else out. Suddenly everything in his head went blank and all that Legolas could think about was how long he had waited to do this. The hours grew into days and became gigantic weeks and enormous weeks as he was gazing down at her and all the frustration, the longing, the want, the passion that had accumulated throughout that time came down on him, brutally driving everything else away.

He barely had time to recognize that familiar, incredible need and his weakness in the face of it before he bent to its will once more and pulled her face to kiss her properly. Irulan momentarily stiffened in his arms with surprise but he cupped her head in both hands and didn't allow her to pull back. He broke into her like water breaking through a damn and she finally gave in and allowed the violent rush of nature that came over her. He kissed her as if his life depended on it and when her hands glided around his back to embrace him a thrill like no other came over him. He pulled back to tilt her head the other way and before a full second could pass, he was kissing her again. It was a rough, demanding kiss but Legolas doubted that he could be more gentle if he wanted to. He doubted that he could stop himself from anything at the moment.

Irulan broke away and gasped to breathe again. She stumbled a little back but Legolas was too agile and he followed suit, pulling her into another kiss before she could utter a protest. Which was bad, because she already didn't feel much like protesting and the crumbles of her rationality were determined to vanish from the scene as quickly as possible. Again she tried to slap herself into sense and pushed away once more. Something akin to a growl came from Legolas and she only found time to utter his name before he pulled her face close once more, stunning her with his lips and his tongue. Irulan moaned into his mouth as the warmth and pleasure that was emanating from him engulfed her further and further and she felt more than tempted to throw all caution to the wind and let her desire decide all.

Legolas, on the other hand, was not in a much better condition. It had been so long! Too long. There had been too many nights he had imagined kissing Irulan like this. The scale was tipped from the beginning and his rationality was doomed to fail. His hands grasped her waist and he pulled her almost roughly against himself, ignoring her moan of protest. How could Irulan know that she had just saved his life? That this taste was the taste of salvation and rejuvenation to him? She had no way of knowing and he had no chance to explain.

She staggered back again and tripped on something and didn't have the air in her lungs to scream a warning before she tipped and fell. Lucky for her Legolas was not as clumsy and grabbed her arm, breaking her fall. It gave Irulan the chance to breath and she didn't allow him to pull her back, but sat down. An awed chuckle rose from her throat and she laughed a little before he followed suit and glided to the floor to kneel before her, gently straddling her leg and pushing his knee between them. Her laughter vanished and only the panting remained at the look of his face. Irulan bit her lip and tilted back a little, supporting herself on her arms.

Very slowly his hands reached up to cup her face again and he pulled her in for a slower and gentler kiss. "Stop," she whispered.

Legolas smiled and entwined his fingers further into her hair before he caught her lower lip. "If you say that you want to try friendship first, I will kiss you until you faint," he whispered into her ear before he gently nipped at it.

Irulan jumped slightly at that and moaned despite herself when he placed a hot, open-mouthed kiss behind her ear. "No…," she stammered, then chuckled again "we did an awful job of that."

He broke away momentarily and gave her a long look as his thumbs drew circles on her cheeks. "NEVER leave me again," was his heated whisper.

Irulan smiled despite herself with both intimidation and amusement. "You know I can't promi-…"

This time he kissed her until her arms refused to hold her up and she sank onto the forest floor, an eager Legolas moving to trap her below him. He suckled her lower lip, then broke away to gaze down at her again. There was a playfulness and definite joy in his gaze, but it didn't suffice to hide the lust underneath and Irulan swallowed softly, hoping that Legolas was sane enough not to go any further in the middle of a bamboo forest when they had barely made peace. Despite his apparent wishes, the touch on her face was gentle. "I will make you happy, Irulan," he said slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I know," was her sincere reply.

Something drifted between them and Irulan stilled, feeling the veil on his emotions slowly being pulled away. She had no clue how one would describe such a feeling, but she was certain that this was what Legolas was doing. The overwhelming sensation of love, hope and joy poured through her while the elf watched her, a cryptic expression on his immaculate features. She gasped and struggled underneath the overload, but found no way of escaping it as she lay pinned underneath him. The pleasure bordered on pain in its intensity and she buckled underneath him, feeling tears building in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak his name, but found nothing to say as the sensation ripped through her. He watched her a few moments longer, then leaned in and kissed her slightly on the lips. "Hush," was he said before he leaned his forehead on hers and slowly the feeling subsided and faded away.

She took a loud, ragged breath and tried to return to reality. Her entire body tingled and burned as Legolas kissed her cheek and buried his face into her neck. "Never leave me again," he repeated almost inaudibly.

Irulan spent the next ten minutes trying to discover how much of her brain had burnt to ashes and whether she should thank Legolas for the experience, or kill him. When she was certain that she was not crippled yet, she took a deep breath and gazed at the bamboo dancing above them. Suddenly their current position reminded her of something and a smile hit her lips. She raised a trembling hand to his hair and began a slow caress. He stiffened, then relaxed again and a moment passed. He, too, must have remembered because she felt him smile against her neck, then press a long kiss to it.

"Do not kill Anne," he murmured after many minutes.

She sighed and shifted slightly below him. "I won't. If you kill her first."

Legolas chuckled and raised himself on his elbows. "I should, shouldn't I?" he said dreamily and brushed his lips against hers. "But I doubt that Russel would thank me for it." When he spoke again, there was gravity to his tone. "I owe him too much already."

Irulan cupped his face and pulled him down for a more throughout kiss. For a moment he replied with a heated kiss himself, then, to her surprise, he pulled back. "Irulan," he growled, almost with frustration, "I am trying to gather my wits." She smirked with amusement. "Stop me now," he added a moment later, his tone low and dark, "Or do not stop me at all."

She stilled, caught off-guard by both his passion and the thrill it sent through her. They stared at each other for a while, unable to blink and waiting for the other to make a move. Irulan, who was certain that all that kept Legolas at bay this moment was the fact that he would never move without her consent, didn't know if she should feel threatened or excited by that. But she knew that despite all her own want and excitement, she had not waited so long to love Legolas while she embedded her head in mud and scratched her back on stones and roots. The smile she offered at the end was sympathetic. "Consider yourself stopped, Legolas."

He groaned with disappointment and dropped his head to her shoulder again. "You shall certainly pay for that, Irulan," he growled and just when she thought that she had caused him true hurt, began to chuckle. He kissed her neck again and shifted to lie beside her, pulling her for a tight embrace. "Are you cold?" he whispered, caressing her back. Irulan shook her head and held back the urge to say that she was burning alive. "Then let us stay here a little longer."

She nodded mutely and mumbled "Let's," as the bamboo continued its song, uncaring for whatever transpired in the world underneath and between it. She listened to it for a long while, thinking of Legolas and thinking of herself. Had she made the right choice? Had she made the wrong one? She placed her hand on his chest and felt the faint vibration of his beating heart. 'I have made the ONLY choice,' she thought dimly before she drifted into sleep, light as a bamboo leaf.


	17. These Little Silly Selfish Things

_Yes, yes, yes! I deserve all the ugly comments thrown in my way. Oh my God that was a LONG break! I know what you're thinking. "What now? God knows what happened this time!" _

_Simple – I was on vacation in Peru. Gorgeous country, amazing culture. I should be writing about Irulan and Legolas, alas, I was looking at the incredible architecture of the Incas and gazing at cloud-misted Machu-Pichu and sitting over desert dunes and walking through the dim Amazon jungle. _

_I know that everyone who was mad and angry at my absence was only so because they love the story and they have a right to be frustrated when it takes ages to update. I always chew my nails over stories like that, myself. So I take it as a compliment. But I will say it one last time – I WILL finish this story. And with more regular updates from now on, too, I hope. _

_I had tons of reviews by the time I returned to New York and each one was more motivating than the other. I will try to write back to everyone who offered an e-mail address, but I didn't want to do that and postpone another update just now. _

_The following chapter can be evaluated as an Interlude, I think. It is a resting place after a steep and wild climb and a necessary evil to sort some things out. There are other hills to climb yet, but it's good to sit and look back and try to get our breaths back. _

_Thank you again for hanging on. _

* * *

Irulan woke up, somewhat confused. It took her a moment to realize that she was still in the forest and -she felt him draw her closer- with Legolas. It could have easily been a dream and she smiled with relief at the realization that it wasn't. But there HAD been a dream... 

She sat up, wiping the hair from her face. The forest still sang around them and though it had been a joyful and exotic thing before, now it felt constricting. She watched the play of black and green around her and felt Legolas rising as well to sit behind her, his arms entwining her waist. "Are you well?" he sighed finally and kissed her nape.

Irulan pursed her lips and continued to look ahead for a few moments, trying to extract the remains of the dream that were fading away with speed. The only thing she could remember distinctively was slanted green eyes.

"Legolas…" she sighed and hesitated. He waited with her and she sensed his curiosity and slight alarm. Irulan bit her lip and glanced up and around her to stall what was to come. It was a demand and she didn't want to make demands. However, she had to. If there was any chance of survival for this friendship, for this love, for this mutual agreement... demands had to be made. She moved to sit around, facing him and when she locked eyes with him, he seemed to be ready for some serious talking. "You can never lie to me again."

He blinked, as if unsure whether to be offended or surprised. "I never lied to you," he said slowly, a certain caution in his tone.

Irulan pursed her lips. True enough, the role of a liar had, so far, been only hers. "You know what I mean," she said softly.

He nodded after a moment and she felt a weight lifting from her shoulders. He was not fighting her. Not trying to get his way. Not trying to beat her to his advantage. "I know what you mean," he said, almost in the same tone. His fingers brushed over hers before interlocking.

"I know that you are used to that," she said, "the thing that you do, I mean." A raised eyebrow was the reply. "I mean the...walking around the truth part. Or not mentioning it at all." His face was unreadable for a moment and Irulan took a deep breath, then continued. "You can't do that anymore. You can never do that to me again."

She waited. For what, she didn't know. It was the greatest ultimatum she had probably given to anyone. She knew that it was Legolas' second nature to be discreet and perhaps even a bit sly. She also knew that she could ask any other man to be honest with her and get an instant promise in return, but that this promise would mean nothing. Humans were so fickle! Give them a month, a year and they always forgot. Legolas would never forget. If he gave his word in anything, it was as good an oath as there ever was.

And maybe that's why it wasn't easy to give. He was silent for a long moment and Irulan thought that maybe she should feel offended in some way that he didn't immediately jump to swear honesty. She glanced at him. His face had the expression of someone who was calculating what exactly would fall into that category and what could be excluded. A bit annoyed, she tugged at his hand and he met her eyes. "It is easy to promise never to lie," he sighed then, placing his other hand on hers and caressing it in silence for a while. "It is easy to promise never to make such 'bets' behind your back, again. But what you ask...I don't know what it entails."

"It's rather obvious, I think," was her baffled reply.

To her amazement, he shook his head with gravity. "Do you have any idea what brutal honesty means?"

The way he said that and the look that followed made her somehow certain that no, she had no clue what brutal honesty meant. And as a matter of fact, she wouldn't probably like it that much, either. For instance, if she had a haircut and Legolas would walk in and tell her that it was the most horrible thing she ever did to herself, she would probably be very, very upset. The truth was, sometimes people craved for silly hope and they craved for untrue compliments and they didn't really, really want to hear the honest truth. For instance, she didn't want to hear that yes, her face held more wrinkles than last year if she dared to ask him if it was so. Irulan blinked momentarily, surprised by that thought. She WAS going to age, after all, and Legolas would remain exactly as he was. It was silly but she had never really considered it before. It had been a piece of information that she knew, but that she had never really tried to inspect under a loop until this moment.

Legolas read her confusion and slight terror and moved closer to her. "If it is what you want…" he began, thinking that he should not have faltered in his reply and eager to make amends for that.

To his surprise, she cut him off with haste. "No!" He stopped and she continued, softer: "No. I don't think I want brutal honesty. I mean...I want honesty, but not the brutal sort." She bit her lip and looked up at him. "Does that make sense?"

"I think so," he said with the hint of a smile. Irulan huffed with frustration. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she said and waved her hand as if to brush the unease away. It was obvious from his expression that he wasn't buying it, but thankfully he didn't press on, either. 'I have to sit down and think about this,' she mused to herself, trying to push the idea of a long term relationship between an immortal and a mortal into the background. 'I have to think really, really hard about this.' She cleared her throat and met his eyes again. "Just try not to...hurt my trust again."

Before the last word was out of her mouth, his expression had gained an unexpected gravity, mingled with fear. "I promise to do my best," he whispered, pressing her hand between his as if to underline the sincerity of his words. It wasn't necessary because now that Irulan was looking into his eyes, it was evident that Legolas meant every syllable of it.

She nodded, both relieved and intimidated at the same time. "Good," was all she could come up with at the face of such seriousness. "Cause you know...next time I will be nowhere this merciful."

The comment had the desired effect and Legolas smiled a bit in surprise. "I have learned my lesson," he said, pulling her palm up for a kiss. "And I know I was rather lucky this time."

She nodded with mock seriousness, biting her cheeks. His fingers on her cheek startled her. "I am sorry," he whispered into the earthly music of the bamboo forest. "For everything." Irulan nodded, too dumbfounded to make a comment about it. She knew that no matter what she said now, she would not find it in her heart to trust Legolas completely until he earned that trust in time. But she also knew that yes, he was indeed sorry and well, everyone deserved a second chance.

"So am I," she managed hoarsely a moment later. A long time passed as Legolas smiled and kissed her softly on the lips. She laid her forehead on his cheek, feeling relieved to have overcome a hard task. But…her task was not completed yet. There was something else that needed to be sort out. Something she should have sorted out from the very beginning. "What about Amanda?" she whispered at last with a hoarse voice.

A silence followed and Legolas' fingers combed through her hair, gently removing the pin. "There never was an Amanda," he said finally, smoothing the locks around her frame.

Somehow it made her angry. She knew for a fact that elves were obsessed with loyalty, but she had also known elves to be extremely honest. Well honest they were, but they had an eerie way of walking around it, too. She slowly looked up and tried not to sound too tense. The idea that there was another woman somewhere in the picture wasn't making it easy. Irulan was not liberal in these matters - perhaps even less than elves and if all else failed, her pride prevented her from thinking that affairs were as subtle and fleeting as most people around her seemed to think. "She was there when I called you," she offered at last, her tone slow and cautious. He said nothing and she continued, now feeling even more dreadful. "She came to Chinatown...what do you mean, there was never an Amanda?"

His sole response to that was to embrace her stronger. A part of her felt like slapping herself mentally for thinking about this now and another, larger part felt sick that she had not thought of it before. Before she had thrown herself into his arms, that is. He held her hand and gave it a long look, playing with her fingers as Irulan tried to keep the color off her face - due to shame or to anger, she didn't know. "I love you," he whispered finally and looked up to meet her gaze. "You and no other."

"I know that," Irulan exhaled with frustration. "But I will not..."

"Amanda and I," he intervened slowly, punctuating the words, "had dinner a few times." He halted and pursed his lips momentarily. "It was a mistake, I do not deny it. But that is all." She gave him a suspicious look and Legolas' eyebrows rose at her doubt. Did she actually doubt his faithfulness? The idea was somewhat silly but at the same time, offensive. He could be accused of many things, but being unfaithful was not one of them. The bed-jumping or stacking affairs as easily as unstacking them was not his style. Quite the opposite! He opened his mouth to say so, but she beat him to it.

"Are you saying that you didn't encourage her, Legolas?" The tone was careful but also held a warning. He sighed at the implication of it. It was obvious that Irulan did not trust him. At least not completely, yet. And what could he expect? Also, he expected no less pride in her. She was not a woman who thought lightly of affairs, either. He smiled deftly at the idea that while they should be the most 'liberal' people on the planet -she being from New York and him having seen and done almost everything- they were both stubbornly conservative. And that suited him just well.

"I did not discourage her," he offered finally, forcing his mind back to the subject. She took a deep breath, not looking away. The disappointment in her expression made him continue "Irulan, I am no Man." His hand touched her hair again. "Nothing happened between us."

"But Russel said that you meant to return to her."

He nodded and caught her hand once more. "I was considering giving it a chance," he admitted, suddenly feeling foolish. Why on earth had he even considered something like that, anyway? It seemed a decision made a lifetime ago on a different planet. "I thought it would be wise." He gave her a crooked smile. "Sometimes I surprise myself with the extent of foolishness I am capable of." She tried to return the smile, but it wasn't with much success. "But," he added then with a more serious voice, "I would not use Amanda like that - or anyone else." A moment passed as he placed a kiss on her open palm and she sighed as always to the action. "She would be a poor replacement anyway," he murmured, meeting her eyes again.

She nodded, not sure where this left them. If Legolas said that nothing had happened, she believed him. But what that 'nothing' entailed, she didn't know. An affair didn't always necessarily have to be physical, did it? Where did one draw a line to such a thing, anyway? "Maybe if you hadn't come here..." she mumbled, looking down at their entwined hands.

"No," he said, almost tense. Then softer "No." His hand cupped her cheek and she looked up, uncomfortable about the subject but unable to draw an end to it. Legolas looked at her for a long time, his eyes clear and bright with sincerity. "It is true that I had some silly thoughts for a while due to my frustration and anger. But I am not so weak that I bend to these emotions when it comes to affairs, Irulan." He gave a pause as if to let the words sink in. "You must believe me in this. Amanda was never an option for me." She nodded, feeling a bit more relieved at his heated gaze. "Nor will anyone ever be again," he added and kissed her palm again.

She sighed and embraced his neck, pulling him down for an embrace. His hands settled on her back and the sensation of relief and safety was incredible as she sat, burrowed in his neck. "You are not my first preference, Irulan," he said with half-amusement and half-scolding. "You are my ONLY preference."

Maybe that was all she had wanted to hear and it made her feel so incredibly, amazingly good. She hugged him tighter and he kissed her hair. "If you had had an affair with her..." she mumbled and he strengthened his grip to force her to silence. Still she added "I would never take you back."

Legolas caressed her back, thanking the gods that they had not let it go that far with Amanda. He never really had had the urge to jump into an affair with her anyway, but he HAD considered it, after all. And if anything would have happened, Irulan would have been lost to him for all times. He knew this with absolute certainty. It might have seemed silly to some - he knew that mortals were not overly picky in these matters. They even returned to former relationships after bedding quite many people in between. But he knew that Irulan was not so laid back and to tell the truth - neither was he. It wasn't only the jealousy, but it was the fact that he believed in dedication in the truest sense. If a person was with another, then he or she should do so COMPLETELY. Legolas was one to give himself physically, mentally and spiritually to whatever point the other could tolerate it and he was expecting the same in return.

He kissed her hair again, hugging her closer. "I think she'll be pissed," Irulan mumbled into his shoulder and he smiled despite himself.

"I imagine she will be," he said softly. He held her at arm's length then and gave her a long look. "As soon as we return to New York, I will explain it to her," he added more solemnly. Amanda would probably be very disappointed and true enough, he had played a part in letting her sentimentalism take root like this. But it wouldn't be the first time he had broken a woman's heart. "I will also find out about these men after you," he growled a moment later, caressing her fingers.

"I keep thinking about that and I can't think of any reason but my relationship with you, Legolas."

To her surprise, he nodded. "That option has crossed my mind, as well. It wouldn't be the first time." He frowned and looked into the forest for a while. "No matter. I want you to stay close to me until this is over."

She crooked her eyebrow. "How close?"

Legolas chuckled and drew her to himself, placing a long, sensual kiss on her lips. "As close as possible," he murmured against her lips and kissed her again.

Irulan nodded and hid a yawn. He smiled down at her, reading the tiredness in her face. "Come...it is getting cooler. Let us go back."

She nodded again, but didn't move right away. It was cool, true, but to be alone with Legolas was incredibly sweet and she didn't want to give it up too soon. A while passed as she sat, staring into the forest and he sank back, not urging her again and instead, sitting in front of her and caressing her face or giving her small, gentle kisses. "What is up with Mona and Haldir?" she said suddenly, out of nowhere.

His eyebrows rose with slight amusement and he didn't reply for a moment. "Something is UP?" was his mocking question.

Irulan bit down her grin and gave him a sly look. "Even I learn, Legolas. Enough to see that you are walking around an issue, again." The reply to that was a mock surprised glance. "And again," she added dryly.

"What issue?"

"And again!" she said and tried to shove him back. He gripped her elbows and pulled her into his chest instead. "Come on!" she half-laughed, half-whined. "Tell me!" She felt him draw in a breath to answer and quickly added "No, Legolas! Don't play around and don't forestall!"

"Do you realize," he said with a tired sigh, "that you are asking for rather private information?"

She pulled back a little and gave him an excited look. "How private?"

The elf chuckled and gave her a long kiss on the lips. "Very private," he whispered huskily, leaning in for more.

Irulan evaded him. "They were lovers?" He smiled and shook his head. "ARE lovers?" she said with more excitement. Again, he shook his head, grinning at her disappointment. "What is it then?"

"What makes you think there IS something?" he said, playing with her locks.

He was sidestepping again. But she pretended not to hear it. "I have eyes, Legolas!"

He looked at her for a while as if to decide whether he should let it go, or give in. Then he spoke as he caressed her hair. "It is a very long story." She didn't say anything and just watched him frown slightly, in remembrance. "And actually not mine to tell," he said flatly, giving her a meaningful look. Irulan huffed in irritation and he added with amusement "But...the gods forgive me...I can not deny you this little...pleasure." Irulan grinned and nodded like a little girl, wetting her lips in anticipation.

The elf bit down a chuckle at her gleeful curiosity and cleared his throat, trying to aim for somberness. "Haldir was a very close friend and companion of Mona's parents. Eldir -Mona's father- served with Haldir for many years in Lothlorien and was always more than a friend long after the Old Days were over. Her mother was known to him, too. He was there when Mona was born and he was there as she grew up." He frowned and looked away again, distracted by the memories. It was strange to think about it now - to think about the span of centuries as if it was just a matter of mortal years. How to explain to Irulan a friendship that lasted between two men for many millennia? How to explain what it meant to watch someone grow up in a few hundred years?

He didn't speak for a while and she didn't interfere with his thoughts. "He was there when they died, too," he whispered finally.

This was definitely not what Irulan expected. She was speaking before she could get a hold on her tongue. "Her parents DIED!"

Legolas nodded, shifting slightly with discomfort. It was not easy to talk about such private matters to some other. Then he glanced at Irulan and smiled slowly. 'But this is Irulan,' he thought to himself. 'This is the one person I can tell everything and anything.' It didn't feel less wrong but in an unexplainable way it also felt right. Because he was sharing something of deepest intimacy with her and the sheer act spoke of their connection and bond. Despite all the ethical wrongness, there was an emotional rightness to it. He smiled broader and nodded. "A long time ago," he whispered and began to run his fingers through her hair again.

"Why?" she whispered back.

He bit his lip. "They died during a mission," he said eventually. When he met her eyes again, Irulan nodded in understanding and didn't press further for details. He exhaled in relief and continued with a firmer tone. "After that...everything changed." Again a long break while he thought out his words. "Haldir was with Mona almost every day. She had practically grown in his care and well...he thought it to be his responsibility towards her parents that he should take care of her."

"I understand," she murmured and caught his hand, delivering it a kiss. It startled him for a moment, then he smiled again and entwined his fingers with her. "Only she grew very...fond of him."

A short silence. "Oh," Irulan managed a moment later, not sure what else to say. Legolas was watching her reaction and she wiped the hair from her face before she spoke further. "And the feeling wasn't returned?"

He cocked his head and gave her another one of those long looks along with a thoughtful smile. "Do you want to hear his answer or mine?"

Irulan pursed her lips and waited a moment. "Why does he deny himself?"

Legolas sighed and pulled her closer, kissing her forehead. "You must understand that he is having a hard time facing his own emotions - let alone Mona's. He was an uncle to her for centuries."

Irulan didn't say anything for many minutes. She tried to put herself in Haldir's position -which proved to be impossible- and giving up, tried to imagine herself in Mona's shoes. That proved to be almost as hard as the first option. Knowing how morally stiff elves were, such feelings must have been very hard for either one to face and accept. By the looks of it, Haldir hadn't even come as far as the accepting part. "Does he feel as if he would be betraying the trust of her parents if he...gave in to his feelings?" she murmured at last.

She felt him nodding. "I believe so. Haldir is a very proud man. He takes his vows and relationships in life very seriously."

"But he loves her!" she protested weakly.

"Didn't you once say that love is not enough?" Legolas said a long moment later.

Irulan closed her eyes in defeat. She knew that he had not meant to hurt her with the comment, but it hurt, nevertheless. She strengthened her grip on him and felt him do the same. "I did," she whispered finally.

"But then," he whispered a moment later, "you also said that love justifies everything."

Irulan looked up with a deft smile, meeting his gaze. "True. I said that, too." She sighed. "I guess humans are constantly confused."

Legolas cocked his head and kissed her palm again, not breaking the eye contact. "Not more than elves, I promise you."

For a while longer they listened to the bamboo, each giving the silence its way. Finally when there was nothing left to say and the day already seemed too full with words, Irulan said that she was ready to go back. Legolas helped her up and then took her hand again, leading her out of the maze of the swishing bamboo, just like once he had led her out from the mist, to safety.

When they arrived at the camp the fire was almost extinguished and everyone was tucked away somewhere in their little tents -yes, as incredible as it was, they had tents, thanks to elves thinking ahead and knowing what to get for a trip like this. Legolas didn't let go of her hand and instead pulled her towards his own tent, which she guessed Haldir had prepared for them. It was small for two people, but not uncomfortable at all when he pressed her close to his chest and Irulan sighed, feeling the conflict and battle of the past few days finally taking a toll on her. The last thing she remembered was the familiar feeling of his hand caressing her back and this time she didn't dream of slanted green eyes.

* * *

The next dawn didn't bring the relief that usually follows a tempest. On the contrary, the moment Irulan stepped out of the tent, greeted by a warming early summer day, she felt the tenseness in the camp. Instinctively she looked for Legolas, but instead spotted Haldir, standing some distance from the camp and gazing towards the forest. She stumbled towards him, her brain trying to recall the events of the day before and her body trying to wake up. 

Haldir greeted her with such a warm smile that she felt instantly revived and returned it with the same enthusiasm. "Have you slept well?" he asked gently.

"I have," Irulan yawned, scratching her head. "Where is everyone?"

"Legolas and Mona left to find Baeron's house. They will return to lead us to it. Russel is taking care of the horses…" he motioned with his head and Irulan followed it, finding the man grooming the animals, "…Anne went into the forest for a stroll," he added more thoughtful and gazed towards the trees again. "I was wondering if I should go after her and make sure that she won't get lost."

"Leave her be," Irulan said with more bitterness than she meant to.

He met her eyes with a frown. "You are still angry with her?"

"STILL?" was her astonished question. "I have barely begun to be angry."

Haldir was quiet for a moment. "I know that it takes time and I am confident that your friendship will not be damaged by it."

"Oh really?" she said tersely. "Don't be so sure, Haldir. This time she's gone too far." He looked like he meant to object, but wisely kept his tongue. "All this lying, deceit…she knows how I hate it. And she knows how I hate being treated like a little child. Don't tell me that just because two people are friends, it gives them the right to treat each other any way they like."

"Of course not," he soothed her, briefly touching her shoulder.

"And don't say that just because she had good intentions, her behavior was acceptable!"

"No," he sighed and looked towards the forest again. "But I think she understood and accepted her mistake. At this point, she seems fully capable of punishing herself without any further help."

"Yeah well, I'm not going to make it easy on her!" Irulan retorted pursed her lips in grim determination.

Haldir smiled down at her and she couldn't read his expression – did he think that she was being childish? She stiffened with the thought, but he made no further comment on the issue and instead, decided to change the topic. "You have forgiven Lord Legolas. I think that's enough generosity for now."

For no apparent reason, she felt a bit embarrassed. "I'm not in the position to forgive anyone," she mumbled, shifting on her feet with discomfort. "I did some pretty awful things, too."

His smile grew a little at that and Irulan got the feeling that he was hinting at Anne again, although he hadn't said a word. She gave him a suspicious look and only received another gentle touch on the shoulder in reply. Feeling that this conversation was not in her favor, she mumbled that she needed to speak to Russel and without waiting for a reply, turned to walk in that direction. She felt Haldir's silent but heavy gaze on her back and was hit by both anger and shame at that. Anger because the damn elves thought they were so wise and mature and felt like they could 'kindly' remind all lesser beings of that any time they deemed it necessary. Shame because they were probably always right.

Russel was still grooming -or attempting to groom, one should say- the horses. She walked slowly and deliberately turned her thoughts from the more unpleasant facts to far prettier ones. She had accepted Legolas' offer! It seemed like a dream now, hidden somewhere in an imaginary yesterday. The smile only grew broader and an incredible lightness took hold of her heart. Only then, in the aftermath of her decision, did Irulan realize how much she had really missed him and being with him - being a part of his life. The days of solitude seemed miles away now and all she could think of was how she would spend her time with Legolas.

She lifted her head to look around as she walked on. 'I am in China!' she thought. 'With the man I love! With friends who love me. How lucky I am...' For a fleeting moment, she thought of Baeron again - it was impossible not to think of him in moments like this, in moments when she craved for his friendship even more than when she was sad and bitter. And for the first time in long months, the memory didn't stab her as it usually did. It held a gentle, almost satisfactory longing, but no protest to faith or the gods. Unconsciously she nodded to herself, a slight frown setting on her face. This terrible trip was indeed doing rather good things for her. In a terrible way. If such a thing made sense.

"Morning Irulan," Russel said just then and she realized with a start that she had arrived by his side. He looked tired and worn-out, but his smile was genuine as he watched her for a reaction. The perfectness of everything, the lightness of having come to the end of battle, the joy of being surrounded by love made her impulsively embrace him. He chuckled and embraced her back with his free hand. For a moment they stood there, then she took him by the shoulders and leaned back.

"Morning my friend!" she whispered, smiling a genuine smile.

Russel gave her a long look and reached out to place a lock of hair behind her ears. His hand came down to her shoulder, then gently squeezed it as he locked his gaze with hers once more. "How are you feeling?" was his slow question.

Irulan laughed to that and embraced him shortly once more before stepping back. "I feel wonderful! I haven't felt this good in a long, long time!" She took a deep breath and absent-mindedly laid her hand on the neck of the horse that was looking down at her a bit apprehensively. A short silence, then she turned to him. "But what about you, Russel?"

He shrugged his signature shrug and returned to grooming. "Fine," was all he mumbled a moment later. Sensing the unenthusiastic tone of his voice, he added "I'm okay," with a firmer tone.

Irulan didn't say anything immediately and watched him, thinking briefly that she had never really seen Russel do something like this before. "I'm really sorry, you know that," she said slowly.

"I know," he sighed with mild exasperation. "We talked about this yesterday. I'm out of it, really."

"No, you're not," she interfered and pursed her lips at his exasperated look. "I mean…what about Anne?" That finally served to give a touch of uncertainty to his eyes and Russel diverted them eventually, continuing his job on the animal.

A few minutes passed in silence as the world around them began to warm up despite the coldness in the present group. "It was going to come out sooner or later," she heard him mumble then. She watched him as he continued, hesitant about continuing before he finally gave in without meeting her gaze. "Doesn't really make a difference. I mean…it's not like…" That was as far as Russel got before he submitted to caution and shut up.

Irulan sighed and gazed around the camp. "Although I think that you are way too good for her," she began tentatively, "I don't see why not." The sharpness in his gaze was unexpected and Irulan almost flinched. He held her eyes for a second or two before he returned wordlessly to his occupation, his stance betraying his tenseness. A wise woman wouldn't push and leave it at that. A good friend would perhaps risk it. So she continued, seemingly unfazed: "What are you, five years old? For God's sake, Russel, stop acting like it's some sort of crime or something!" This only caused him to purse his lips even more. 'A little more and he'll explode,' she thought to herself, then mentally shrugged and kept going. "You are both adults…" (Russel snorted to that) "…and why the hell not give it a try?"

"Is that your wisest recommendation, Irulan?" he said dryly, for the first time stopping his actions and looking her in the eye. "Cause if it is, you can just disappear right now. I'm having a good morning for a change ever since this craziness started and I don't see why I should I allow you to ruin it."

Irulan deftly rolled her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself. Men could be so infuriating! "There's nothing wrong with the advice. There's something wrong with the fact that you've been hiding this for like a millennia or something and that you've never ever even once considered that it's NOT a myth, but a possibility!"

"Thank you for enlightening me," was the growl of an answer.

"Look…I'm not telling you to jump into anything…" –she got a sarcastic look for that one- "…As a matter of fact, I think you should just make this really, really hard on Anne. But at least for God's sake take the whole matter from the 'impossible' list and put it somewhere amongst the 'maybe's!"

"Incredible," Russel mused to himself, gazing at the sky, "one night with the Grand Prince and she has changed her mind one hundred percent!"

A blush crept to her cheeks and her anger shot up several degrees at once. "That's not true!"

"Oh yeah? Up till yesterday a serious fraction of the population was trying to convince you to give this guy a second chance –not even start a whole new relationship, mind you, but merely a second chance- and you were ripping your hair out of fury at the idea alone. This morning, however, you were apparently reborn as the Great Matchmaker!"

"Russel…" she managed to growl with a bit of threat, since she didn't trust herself to come up with a sensible reply to that. He interfered smoothly.

"On the whole, I would say that it was rather easy. An entire group had to travel to a different continent, a major organization had to be involved to locate you, some heroic and very uncomfortable stuff like horseback riding and hiking and shit…and Her Majesty finally agrees to reconsider!" Irulan gulped when their eyes met and she felt another wave of shame rising to her face. "I'm not even mentioning the abuse that some of us suffered and the worry we had to live through and that, in the end, rather painful and intimate facts had to be revealed and all that."

A moment of silence followed. "You forgot to mention the ones who died," she finally said with a hoarse voice.

When she looked up again he seemed a bit startled and bewildered and didn't make an attempt to speak up again. It was easy to give in to hurt and fury and to walk away now. But that was the cowardly thing to do. Irulan thought deftly that she had done enough running lately and that it was time to stand and face reality. Every word that he had said was true. All of it. Including the fact that she was standing here and judging him when she of all people should know how impossible sometimes the most seemingly simplest things were.

"I didn't mean to…" he began clumsily when she cut him off.

"No…I know." She sighed and swallowed down her pride and anger. "And you are right. I just…all the time I was running from Legolas and I was denying him…deep inside I knew that I was making a mistake. I really did. But…I understand that sometimes this isn't not enough to turn away from a path. I just hope that it'll be sooner with you than it was with me."

Another slice of silence set in and Russel didn't break it with protests, though his eyes had softened. She bit her lip and tried to imagine where they would go from here. As a group and as friends and lovers…or possible lovers. It seemed too chaotic to figure out, too incalculable to draw a schedule to it. She gazed towards the camp again and realized that Anne had appeared and was watching them, a most unusual nervousness to her. When they made eye-contact, the blonde woman began to walk towards them, seemingly having waited to be spotted first. Irulan frowned a little and watched her approach, her mind still busy with the remains of Russel's words. "Because the truth is," she mumbled absent-mindedly before she met his eyes again, "I would never cross half the globe for YOU, you idiot."

To her expectation he grinned and the tenseness between them dissolved almost visually. "Of course you wouldn't, you selfish beast," he chuckled, shaking his head.

Irulan raised her eyebrow and crossed her arms on her chest, vaguely aware of Anne's coming. "Why should I?" she said with mock indifference. "I'll be having the trip of a lifetime with Legolas. I'll be pampered and spoiled and all that…" She waved her hand dismissively. "Nothing like this hell of a vacation."

Russel rolled his eyes, playing along to bury the past few minutes so that the road to an amicable future could be walked upon, once more. But any possible cheeky reply he had to that was interfered with by Anne's greeting.

"Hi," she said, and it sounded almost shy. Despite the rarity of that, Irulan managed to hold her poise when she met the blonde woman's eyes. From the corner of her eye she saw Russel subtly flinching at the surprise arrival, which he had failed to see, since his back was turned to that direction, but other than that, he too remained rather unresponsive.

"Hello Anne," Irulan said finally when the silence seemed to continue for too long. There was no warmth in her greeting.

Anne bit her upper lip and dared a quick glance to Russel who was grooming the horse once more as if nothing else existed in the universe, his back turned to her. "How are you guys?" was the next question. This time it was obvious that Anne was more than nervous, cause the slight shaking of her voice was audible.

Irulan, however, had no mercy to spare at the moment. "Great! We're having a great time, Anne!" she spit out dryly. "You?"

The other woman looked down momentarily and swallowed. "Actually…I'm…not so great," she managed to choke out finally. She got to answer to that. Russel continued to groom –although the horse showed signs of irritation of the extensive care at this point- and Irulan stared at her friend without blinking. "I apologize."

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I apologize!" Anne said quickly. She looked happy to be given a chance to speak. "I'm really sorry, Irulan! I didn't know all this was going to happen!"

"The truth is, you would have done it even if you knew it."

"What! NO!"

"Yes, Anne. You have always been extremely selfish, inconsiderate and downright invasive. You just didn't manage to cause serious harm by it until now. Congratulations on the upgrade!"

Anne's mouth dropped open, but she quickly closed it and gave Russel's back another look as if she expected him to step in and save her. Judging that no support was coming from that direction she pursed her lips again and began to redden in the face. For someone who very rarely did so, it was proof of her momentary pain and discomfort. "You don't seriously mean that…" she mumbled after a while.

For a moment Irulan was surprised by the shyness and defeat Anne was showing. It was highly abnormal for someone of her character and she couldn't remember seeing the woman like this before. Anne always had had a brazen confidence and unfazed sense of righteousness. It was interesting to say the least to watch her when she was this frail and defenseless. She raised her eyes and met Irulan's eyes, biting her upper lip again. "You don't, right?"

Irulan rolled her eyes. "Of course I do! Are you even aware how much you've hurt the people around you?"

"I am!" was the wail of a reply. "And I accept the fault! I was stupid…and…and blind…" she fisted her hands, seemingly desperate to find other horrible adjectives for herself, "…everything I did was wrong, yes. But…I really didn't mean anything bad with it, Irulan!"

"Oh stop!" Irulan moaned. "That would be an excuse if you were a child. Don't even try that bullshit with me."

"It's not bullshit!" Anne protested, taking a step towards the woman, encouraged by her own desperation. "I wanted you to give Legolas another chance and…"

"And that is your business, how?"

"You were miserable! You were…you were sick, Irulan! And so was he!" Irulan didn't even bother to protest and shook her head with disbelief. "I really believed that if not for the bad experience in the past, you two were meant for each other and…and when I saw that Amanda chick…I mean COME ON!" Irulan merely raised an eyebrow, unable to deny her inner irritation at the mention of that name. "I thought Legolas had definitely lost it or something! And you were just going to stand aside and let him do a grievous mistake!"

"It's-none-of-your-business!" Irulan spelled out, trying to keep her voice down. "Admit to yourself that you are doing a terrible job of fixing things, Anne! Fix your own damn life if you must fix something!" That shut Anne up and she took a defensive and hurt stance again. So Irulan continued, suddenly furious about all the past interferences she had to suffer from her nosy friend. "God, you are so much like Legolas sometimes! I mean what on earth gives you the idea that you are fit to lead everyone to happiness or salvation or something! Come back to reality, Anne! You aren't above anyone and in fact, you aren't doing it for anyone else, either."

That must have surely hurt. Enough for Anne to attempt a protest. "And what am I gaining from all this? Huh? What possible selfish gain do I have in this!"

"The power to invade people's lives and to manipulate them must be a reward in itself," Irulan said dryly. "I'm sure Legolas would understand the pleasure of that too well." She gave a hesitant glance around just in case the elf was nearby. It wasn't the nicest of remarks and she wouldn't want to repeat it to his face, either. Thankfully only Haldir was far off, unhooking the tents. Anne had nothing to say to that so Irulan re-loaded her guns and decided to shoot on. "You lie, you cheat, you hide facts…I mean….how can ANY good come from THAT!"

The other woman threw up her hands in defeat, her own rising anger overcoming her nervousness. "Fine! So I am a lying, interfering bitch! I admit to that. Happy, Irulan?"

"No."

"I think that's enough," Russel cut in for the first time and just to hear his voice caused the women to reconsider continuing. He idly packed the brush and turned to give first Irulan, then Anne an unreadable look. He always had been the one to end catfights between Anne and Irulan and although everything else seemed to have changed amongst the trio, this apparently hadn't.

"I think it's high time that Anne here is brought to justice, Russel," Irulan said with a snarl.

"Right. Please Russel, let the execution committee here do her job!" Anne countered to that.

"Next thing you'll say that it's unfair, too!"

"Damn well it's unfair! At least I was honest about my intentions – which were pure."

"There is nothing honest about you Anne," Irulan spat. "Let alone pure."

"Okay that's enough!" Russel interfered once more, this time with a more determined voice and a harder glance at each. "I think I listened to this bickering enough in New York and I'd rather enjoy the chirping of birds or something of that nature in China, if you don't mind."

"But Russel…" Irulan began.

"Irulan," he said with a tired voice, turning to her, "I mean it. The amount of drama here is just beyond me. I don't want revenge. I don't want an apology. I just want peace. Is that so hard to understand?"

Irulan fumbled with the hem of her shirt, annoyed that Russel was not in the mood of torturing Anne. God knew she was! She threw a nasty look to the other woman, but Anne seemed to be focused on Russel now and there was a different look in her eyes. The shyness, too, seemed to have returned and when she spoke, her voice was not as self-confident as a moment before. "You never asked for much," she said slowly with a tone that made even Russel gave her an apprehensive and uncomfortable look. A short silence followed. "And I always did." There was an attempt at a laugh, and it failed. "I want your forgiveness, Russel."

"For what?" he said, and almost managed to make it sound casual.

"Everything," Anne sighed. "Not just this trip. I mean…everything."

Russel, who wasn't fond of playing the sentimental guy and always insisted that he was the macho character in the group drew himself up a little and gave Irulan a sidelong glance before he cleared his throat. "What is this? Everybody is in the apology mood today or something. I can tackle one of you but both of you going emotional on me is simply too much! Look girls…"

"Russel, please!" she interfered, not with anger or annoyance but with something akin to desperation and he stilled his mock humor. The air grew very thick as they looked at each other, not knowing how to put the words now that something drastic had changed between them, and Irulan suddenly realized she was a rather needless and probably obstructive decor at the moment. It was strange to feel so out of place amongst the people she always felt incredibly at home with. She blinked, confused and enlightened at the same time. An odd pain came with the realization – as if a circle that had been open to her before had closed up, now. As if she had been part of something that would not accept her, any longer.

As if the friendship that she had cherished until now and that had always been available to her at every whim, suddenly seemed to have been taken from her. It was still there, no doubt. Or rather, the people were there. But something important had happened to it in one night and that simple thing –a small declaration- had altered its nature so drastically, that she knew deep inside how they would never be the same again.

She heard herself mumbling a half-hearted excuse and walking away while Russel and Anne engaged in a dialogue that seemed to exclude her. They didn't even respond to her departure and a flicker of both jealousy and annoyance coursed through her at that. It was selfish, she knew, because none of them had been jealous of her when she was having HER private life. And it wasn't as if they had been glued to each other before, anyway. Each had had separate and private lives that had taken time from their common friendship and it had never really bothered Irulan or made her feel pushed away. Now, though, that there was something between the two that SHE wasn't any part of, an egoistic part of her felt wounded and bitter.

She trotted away, engulfed in thought. "Don't be a silly child!" she muttered to herself, glancing over her shoulder to give the couple a last look. "This is the right thing! This is how it should be!" The neglected, spoiled baby in her snarled with anger. "Stop!" she continued, desperate to quell the uneasiness. "Everyone deserves to be happy, not just you!"

It brought no relief whatsoever. A sense of gloom and solitude settled on her and in the eye of her mind Irulan suddenly realized that all this time she had dwelled rather comfortably in the shade of a trio that had been sharing a common feature – loneliness. This friendship, she understood suddenly, had been her haven. She had had no problems in risking the adventure of an affair every now and then, but always felt confident and uncaring because she had known that even if it failed –which it always had, unfortunately- all she had to do was to return to that haven and there she would be welcome by friends who shared the same misery. She would still have fun, still laugh, still enjoy life – who cared for a guy who had broken her heart!

But now…now that haven was closed to her. Now she stood alone and maybe for the first time, the solitude that she had been so confident in facing seemed intimidating. It was silly to think that she had lost her friends – she didn't and she probably never would. But they were not solitary figures sitting on a couch and cursing the rest of the world, anymore. Now there was a couple and her and the idea made her very, very uncomfortable. Irulan almost snorted at the stupidity she had uncovered so suddenly – she had always prided herself in not depending on or getting too attached to her boyfriends. Only to realize that she had done that with her friends, instead. And now…with the possibility of that friendship vanishing from her grasp, the first honest idea of what loneliness really meant began to sink in.

She stopped, suddenly unable to walk due to a sharp pain in her chest. 'I'm not afraid!' she said to herself mentally. 'I'm not alone! And even if I were, who cares! I have myself, damn it!' The thoughts brought no relief whatsoever and the terrible gloom and sense of hopelessness grew only further. She looked up, registering the sound of approaching hooves.

The relief she felt so in desperate need of and that simply refused to come, appeared only when Legolas emerged over the hill. The strangest feeling came over her and she ran up to him. She felt so small, so helpless and so lost and all the greatness, all the assistance was in the hands of the man who was coming towards her, on the horse. A part of her mind stood in shock at the fact that Irulan, a woman who had always been proud of herself because of her 'modernity', of her ability to stand on her own feet, of her self-confidence would feel such helplessness and such incompleteness, even though nothing major had really changed in her life. But she did! The mind was an overrated thing, Irulan decided. The heart was all that mattered.

She ran towards him and when close enough Legolas jumped from the horse to take her into his arms. Wasn't it wrong to run from the destruction of one haven right into the security of another? Wasn't this supposed to be one of those 'liberating' experiences when one was shattered to pieces, then realized that it was probably the best thing that had happened to her? The truth was, at the moment she didn't care. Or she cared as much as a little girl who had lost her mother.

If Legolas wasn't as strong as he was he would had stumbled back at the impact of her fierce embrace. But he was prepared and he let her cling to him like a little child, embracing her back. Mona had halted as well and was giving him a questioning look from above her horse. He swiftly turned to glance at the camp, finding nothing out of the ordinary. "Irulan, what is it? What happened?" She shook her head in reply and clung to him harder, burying her face into his neck. Legolas turned to see Haldir watching them with deft confusion on his face. "What happened?" he said, more alarmed now that there didn't seem to be any apparent danger.

"Nothing," she whined, breathing hotly into his neck. He motioned Mona to proceed to the camp and she did so as he stood, watching her join Haldir. From this distance he couldn't hear their conversation, naturally, but he remained alert for a signal. Nothing came. Mona turned back a few minutes later and waved a sign indicating that everything was normal.

"Irulan," he said slowly, his alarm turning from general to personal, "did something happen? Tell me."

She shook her head again, then sighed with partial relief, sinking into him. "I just…I just felt so…alone," she whispered at last.

Legolas blinked in surprise, his arms instinctively embracing her stronger in an attempt of protection. "Why?" he whispered back, leaning his cheek against her hair.

She sniffed and tried to bring back sense to her brain. Once again she merely shrugged in reply while trying to overcome the sensation of being safe and saved, as well as the temptation to turn around and see what the terrible monster had been. "It's really stupid," she admitted in the end and closed her eyes in an attempt to shut off the vision of her own weakness and selfishness.

Legolas pulled back then and lifted her chin to take a better look. They stared at each other for a long moment. "Did someone say something?" he asked slowly, his eyes boring into hers.

She shook her head again, feeling like a little girl again, but not minding at all at the moment. "No," she whispered in reply and smiled up to him, thinking that Legolas looked astonishingly more handsome with each day. Or maybe it was because he was her savior and prince on the white horse at the moment.

The doubt in his eyes didn't lift and he gazed towards the camp, finding Russel and Anne engaged in a dialogue, seemingly careless about anything and anyone else. "You had a fight with Anne, didn't you?"

"Not really," Irulan moaned, wiping her eyes.

Legolas glanced back at the couple. "Are THEY having a fight?"

Irulan sighed with frustration. "No! I wish they had!" He gave her a surprised look that asked for further explanation and she just groaned and placed her cheek on his shoulder again. "That's not what I mean," she mumbled at last. "It's just…I was annoyed that she got away so easy."

He caressed her hair and allowed a short silence. "I see," was his half-amused, half-serious answer, "you wanted blood and pain."

"No! I mean yes, but…" She pulled back suddenly giving him an apprehensive look. "Do you think that they will be…you know…together?"

Legolas cupped her cheek, an incredible expression of love in his eyes. "I don't know," he whispered, though his thoughts seemed to be far from the subject of Anne and Russel. "I hope so."

"Why do you hope so?" Her fury surprised even Irulan herself, but it certainly startled Legolas, who just remained looking down at her as if she was a complicated software program, waiting to be deciphered. "She's going to get away with it!" she added with a hiss.

"So you want to punish her?" was the cool question.

"Yes I do!" She took a deep breath, trying to control herself and yet felt desperately afraid and angry at the same time. "After all she did, don't tell me that we should pretend none of it happened!" Legolas remained silent, so she continued, waving her arms in frustration. "She lied, she cheated, she pushed…so many people suffered because she had this idea in her head…and…and Russel just stands there and doesn't punch her in the face!"

Okay so maybe she shouldn't have said the last part. At least not to Legolas, who was too smart for his own good. Immediately a knowing look settled on his gaze and she was forced to suffer it until he spoke, his voice gentle but serious. "Now I see the problem. You are jealous of them."

"What! No! Why would I be?"

"You think that something dreadful and terrible has happened and your friends are lost to you," was the matter-of-fact reply.

She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, eager to protest, but unable to come up with a decent enough response. "You think?" she whined at last, her voice broken.

Legolas nodded and wiped the hair from her face. The relief he felt at the realization that this was just merely an emotional issue, not a new and unforeseen threat was evident on his face while he continued his action, reveling in the fact that Irulan was clinging to him in a fashion he had never seen her do, before. He had seen her afraid and lost before – true. She looked horrible in Bentanta's tomb after Baeron had pushed her out, for instance. He shivered involuntarily at the recollection and pushed it away, trying to focus on the present instead. But under those circumstances, any sane person would have been afraid and confused.

He realized then that it was incredibly pleasant to feel needed by someone you loved so much. It was amazing to know that now, whenever she felt in need of a person, not Russel but Legolas would be the first name that sprang to her mind. 'If she ever needs to call someone again,' he thought in a hidden, dark corner of his mind, 'she will call me. Not Russel.' Selfish? No doubt about it. But no less true. He glanced once again at the man and Anne standing in the distance, in the process of a seemingly uncomfortable but intimate conversation, and discovered that although he had not admitted so to himself, Russel had indeed been a great threat for him up to this day. And now…his eyes met her again and he smiled, unable to suppress the self-satisfaction completely. Now she needed him like she had never needed him before. Now she wanted him as more than a mere lover. She wanted him as a friend. As a confidant. As a savior. No matter how wrong it was to think of it in that fashion, it still felt so very, very good to know it. The greed of being all that and more for her welled up in him. 'You don't have to be strong every moment of your life anymore,' he thought, looking into her confused brown orbs. 'I am here, now.'

None of his excitement was evident in his tone when he spoke, though. "I think it's only fair," he said softly, giving her a gentle kiss on the lips, uncaring of who was witnessing it. "No one said that growing up is painless."

Irulan sniffed and rolled her eyes and he grinned broader. "Very funny, Legolas! I mean…here I am…pouring my heart out and all…and you…you…"

He kissed her again, feeling so utterly and selfishly and terribly happy and not caring whether it made him less of a man – or an elf. The principles and ethics of a 'proper' person seemed incredibly dull and foolish at this moment. If happiness came at the price of being less proper, it was worth it, he decided. "I found the house," he whispered before she could utter a protest.

She stilled with surprise and almost immediately beamed up to him. "You did!" It was so unlike her mood from just moments ago that he had to laugh. "You did, really? Is it far?"

"No," he sighed, embracing her waist.

"Is it old? I KNOW it's beautiful! I mean it has to be! Where is it?"

"It's…"

"Let's go!" Irulan exclaimed, hugging him. She drew back immediately. "We are going, right?"

"If you release me," was his amused reply. She stepped back at that and wiped the last remnants of her sadness away. Legolas stared down at her, thinking that her wild mood swings made her somehow childish but at the same time so much more attractive as a person. It never took much to make Irulan happy, he realized and he found her openness very fresh and so animating.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

He smiled broader, knowing in his heart that he would never find the words to explain how happy he was at this moment. It seemed such a common moment – nothing special about it. Nothing outstanding. No turning point in life. No end of a great event. But it tasted of happiness and satisfaction and the sheer excitement for life. Only an elf of his age could understand how dull life could become and how the wish to long for it once more could turn into agony. "It is nothing," he whispered at last to her persistent look of doubt. "I am happy," he added simply and watched her excitement turn into something deeper and more profound, something more somber but also more real. Something that would not change so easily in a matter of minutes.

"You fool," was all she said and smiled, knowing that he could read her love for him on her face as easily as reading a it was useless to try to hide the love she felt for him. "You are an old fool and I am a stupid child," she sighed, taking his hand and leading him to the camp. "I really think this is bound for disaster."

And perhaps she thought right.


	18. A Night In a Strange, Distant Land

_I would need a confession booth to get it out of my system completely but for now all I can say is…well…sorry. So much has happened since the last update! The most important reason was that my mother had a surgery and I had to go overseas to be with her for over a month. Then smaller and less important things followed – not important maybe but barriers nevertheless. In the end, I think what made me continue was the never-ending flood of e-mails that I received. Even with such a long break, it astonished me to see that people were not driven away or had not forgotten entirely of the story! _

_Every time I make promises of swift updates, I fail to keep them. Maybe I am jinxing myself. So this time, no promises. Instead, lots of silent effort on my behalf. _

_Thank you for your faith in me. Love to you all!_

She didn't know what she should be expecting but she was certain that all her imagination would not suffice to sum up what peeked at them behind the thick foliage once they crossed the last corner. She gasped involuntarily and slowly allowed her eyes to take in the huge complex that seemed to be shrouded in clouds. It was the moist, unpredictable weather that allowed this phenomenon in this region, along with the height of the structure of course.

'Baeron's house,' she thought and swallowed, her eyes still glued to it. In her mind's eye, she tried to imagine him turning this very corner and gazing up at it. How many times must he have done that? Countless times, and most probably before Irulan was even born. The idea, even after such long experiences with elves, was strange to her.

She knew that it wasn't his work. He had said that he never built anything after Bentanta's tomb and that must have been far earlier than this house. But no matter whom he had acquired to do this work for him, it was obvious that Baeron had a hand in it. The place spoke of him in a way she couldn't find herself capable of describing.

First of all, it was gigantic. She deftly thought then how almost all elven dwellings had a tendency to be that. It was one of their strongest traits - their enjoyment of size, comfort and lavishness. It spoke of their love for long strolls, their need for open, high spaces and of course of the need to stuff in all the possible clutter that somehow managed to cling to one in all the passing years. Elves valued anything related to the past immensely and everything that held a memory was irreplaceable to them. She had often believed Baeron to be a little more modern in that sense, but now that she was approaching his home -or one of his many homes, one should say- she found herself wishing that he was sharing that characteristic with his kin and that she would find the clutters of a long life in this place.

"It's beautiful," she breathed finally.

Legolas halted the horse and remained silent behind her for a few moments. "It is," he said gravely at last. He took a silent breath and pursed his lips as his eyes jumped from stone to wall, from step to window. 'How is it that now I can only remember my terrible wrongs when I think of Baeron?' he thought silently. 'We spent hundreds of years together, did so many things, and yet the mention of his name comes with the sound of a tomb closing and nothing more.'

He deftly shook his head at the realization. It would take time, he knew - half a year was far from enough to look back and see more than regret and foolishness in the past. Half a year was far from enough to find forgiveness for oneself in the rocky path that leads back.

He felt Irulan's hand on his, squeezing gently as if she had sensed his mood. "We are here at last, Legolas," she whispered back, a smile in her voice. "And I'm so happy that you are with me this very moment."

Legolas gave in to that smile and shook off the murky darkness that threatened to overcome him. "As am I," he whispered in reply, kissing her hair.

Their gentle moment was interrupted by Anne's loud gasp as she turned the corner. "Wow! It's…big," she finished lamely and craned her neck further to see over Haldir's shoulder.

"Quite old, too," Mona added when her horse arrived by their side.

A silence set in when all six riders gazed at the structure, half with relief and half with disbelief that they made it so far. It was odd, Irulan decided, to come to an end of a journey like this. Until this moment, she had always thought of her target as something more┘subtle. Something almost unreachable and ethereal. It wasn't really a location she had been heading for, but a turning-point in her life. She realized now, despite the excitement and relief she felt at the sight of the mansion, the journey itself had been the turning point in her life, not necessarily the end of it.

"I feel strange," she said at last, slightly bemused, "to be here. With all of you."

"It's a bit absurd, yeah," Russel murmured back. Hell, if anyone had told him that he would be standing at the gate of an elf's house somewhere in rural China with the present odd company, he wouldn't have believed it either.

"How old do you think?" Anne said, gazing at Mona, who cocked her head, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Hard to tell. It is not a very common structure for this region."

"It doesn't look very…unused," Russel mused.

"I'm sure Baeron had people taking care of it at least twice a year," Haldir sighed. He turned to glance at Legolas, then. "How do we get in?"

"Yes, how do we? They key was in my backpack and it's lost now," Irulan said ruefully.

"I found another entrance," the Mirkwood elf replied, "and opened the door from inside."

"Another entrance?" Irulan craned her neck to him, a curious expression on her face.

"Baeron always had an emergency exit in his structures. Though he might not have built this one, I was sure that he would still have it installed. It's an architect's inevitable habit, I suppose."

Irulan didn't say anything for a long moment when a similar shadow crossed their faces at the memory of the last time they had used such an exit and Legolas feared that the mention of it would darken her mood. But it was a mere "Good," that she mumbled before she turned to look ahead again. He urged the horse on and they remained silent as a group for the rest of the ride.

The closer they came, the more awed Irulan felt. What seemed to be big from their former viewing point grew even more gigantic with every step. At last they had to crane their necks to gaze up at the house that, seen from this up-close, revealed a residence roughly but very efficiently carved into the mountain of rock behind it. This was not unusual for her, since she had seen a similar architectural feat in Egypt, but Russel and Anne gasped in unison, their eyes gliding over the door that seemed to be beaten of iron and bronze and that hung slightly ajar now, promising a whole castle behind it and not merely the house of a single person. Ornamental Chinese roofs were hacked into the blue-grey stone and small slits of windows gaped in a wild array from here and there, oddly distributed but overall very pleasant to the eye. Irulan let her eyes wander up and noticed that windows were visible in very high points of the rock as well, which promised this to be a multi-floored structure.

She shook her head slightly, smiling despite herself. "I think Baeron had a thing for grandeur," she chuckled into the awed silence.

Haldir joined her, gliding from his horse. "I'm afraid THAT is an inevitable elven habit."

He held out his hand and Anne grasped it absent-mindedly, stumbling from her saddle, her eyes still glued ahead. "I've never seen anything like this."

"Baeron had a taste for the unique, too," Legolas replied, helping Irulan down.

"I would say he had taste, period," Anne laughed. "I mean it's gorgeous. In a weird way."

"I'll take care of the horses," Mona said then. "And prepare something to eat. You go on inside."

Legolas nodded, then turned to Irulan. His smile spoke both of gravity and of amusement and his voice gentle as he held out his hand. "Ready?"

Irulan took a deep breath, inevitably remembering a not so long ago time when she and Baeron had stood just like this in Egypt, eyeing Bentanta's tomb and trying to sort through their own heap of sentiments. But it had been vastly different, that experience. That had been amongst hot, crusty dunes; this was in the lush, misty company of trees. Where there had been fear and the anxiety of flight, now there was satisfaction and the relief of arrival. Where there were only two people, afraid and so dearly in need of one another for support, now there was half a dozen, divided perhaps for the outer eye but stitched together by irrevocable bonds.

'Still,' she sighed mentally, sliding her hand into his, 'we were just like this. Standing ready to face the past.' That similarity alone seemed to overpower all differences. She gazed at the house again, yawning in its eternal slumber and waiting for them to enter its domain, and thought of how now SHE seemed to have taken Baeron's place and had arrived to a portal that held the dear memory of a lost one. "I am," she whispered to Legolas, a little absent-minded. And then with the remembrance of a burning day in Egypt, "Let us set the battlements on fire."

* * *

It was damp and cool inside and it smelled of moss, earth and rain. Haldir had been right - despite Irulan's unwavering belief that there would be a chaotic clutter of dust and broken heap of furniture and all the other deeds of an untamed nature, as soon as they entered through the heavy gate (like there had been in Egypt), they were only greeted by an orderly albeit a bit neglected home. It was obvious that Baeron's Chinese staff was taking their work far more serious than his Egyptian one. It was dusty of course, for the shutters of a few windows had broken during storms, drawing a myriad of leaf and root into the house, but not overly so, for despite those mishappenings, the insulation of the place seemed not only intact, but genius as well.

The entrance gave way to a very large room with high ceilings. It was furnished with couches, armchairs and tables, a few cupboards, but these things appeared minor in its vastness. The walls were smoothed roughly to give it a rectangular-like shape, but Baeron had kept the original texture of the stone as well, so it looked almost like a natural formation. A series of high windows over the door were illuminating the chamber. Three rough-cut halls on the three walls led further into the mountain while a solid looking wooden staircase was built into the far end of the room and seemed to open to a second floor, overseeing the entrance hall.

"How did he cut it into the mountain like this?" Russel murmured.

"With much effort, no doubt," Haldir said softly in reply then grinned at the other man's expression. "I'm afraid architecture was never my strongest point."

"What is this sound? It's like…"

"Water, yes," Legolas said smoothly to Anne. "I think there is a hot spring passing below this structure. Baeron probably used it to draw hot water through the walls to heat this place."

"Wow. It surely exceeded my expectations," was the blonde's reply. "I mean I thought we would find a cottage or something. What about you, Irulan?" Irulan tensed slightly and gave her friend a cool glance. She still wasn't on speaking terms with Anne and felt like there was much to be cleared up before they would be, again. If not the strength of her argument, her pride prevented her from becoming too friendly too soon.

"I knew better than that, of course," was her aloof reply that earned her a glance from the elves and a rolling of eyes from Anne, but no verbal comment. She squeezed Legolas' hand a little and tentatively walked on, towards the exiting hallways.

"Have you been around, Legolas? Where does this one lead to?"

Legolas gave the dark hall a thoughtful look. "I came through the one on the right. But..let us explore, if you wish."

Irulan gave him a grin and he smiled back, a similar excitement on his face as he kissed her hand in their entwined grip.

"Let's!" she whispered, almost giddy. "Don't get lost, Russel!" she called to him over her shoulder.

"I'm sure I'll be fine, thank you," was his dry reply.

Although they were all tired both physically and spiritually, the lure of the unknown seemed too strong to resist at the moment. Sure, they could settle, eat first and then go about the business, but Irulan was in no mood to be deterred and took the first step that led into the darkness, almost expecting to come face to face with an unknown era, never experienced by her. The others grouped around Haldir who led them into another hallway.

Although there were no spoken or pre-determined decisions, it seemed natural that Irulan and Legolas would part from the others - as if their journey meant something different than a simple sightseeing.

So she took a deep breath, tried to waft away the excitement and the urge to run right ahead, and finally chose the middle corridor and stepped into the darkness with Legolas by her side. Moments later he told her to wait. She couldn't see much in the dark, but his sight was enough to pick one of the many lanterns on the wall and light it before he found her hand again and proceeded to walk.

It would be too long to explain the twists and turns of the house, here. Enough is to say that it was a maze consisting of chambers, connected to one another via high tunnels, most short, but some rather long enough to give the impression that they were drawing aimless wandering circles inside the mountain. They passed dripping caves with pools of water, crossed small bridges over dark gaps only to arrive in another room, furnished as if it was in the middle of a modern Chinese city and bright enough to make the lantern needless. As she walked, Irulan began to understand that the rooms were aligned towards the perimeter of the rock and seemed therefore always bright and sunny, while several hallways reached into more inner and darker sections to reveal other, unlighted chambers used as depots or cellars.

She had no idea how a man could come up with as strange a blueprint as this one, but found it incredibly exciting to stroll in a settlement that almost seemed alien to her. It didn't make any sense at all, and yet seemed to have its own inner logic and plan. "It's not practical at all!" she breathed as they left another dark dripping cave behind to emerge in another sunlit room.

Legolas chuckled. "It wasn't meant to be, I think." He gazed around the chamber, nodding at the beautiful tapestries and the large, red-curtained bed. "He didn't really reside here all the time, don't forget. And even if he did… I have the strong suspicion that Baeron liked his surroundings a bit…chaotic."

"How come no one stole this?" Irulan said, her eyes resting on some large vases standing around in dusty royalty.

"Perhaps it's not very precious. I think he would keep his more treasured belongings in a safer place. Alas," he added with a sigh then, "I don't think anyone but me could have entered this place without a key, anyway." She gazed at the windows. These were wider because they seemed to be hacked into an almost smooth face of the rock that wouldn't allow anyone to climb through, but she had noticed that most of the other windows were very small and slit-like to prevent anyone from fitting through.

She walked to the bed, hesitating before she pulled the curtain away to reveal a rather clean and made bed. "Oh my God. I feel like it's been years since I've last slept in a bed!"

Legolas chuckled softly behind her before she felt his arms encircling her waist. "And I feel like it has been centuries since WE slept in the same bed."

"Legolas!" she laughed despite herself and tried to break his embrace as he kissed her neck in a playful manner. ⌠Are you out of your mind?"

"Completely so. Even an elf can take only so much!"

"Let's go back!" she urged, wiggling in his arms, but he had no intentions of loosening his hold.

"What for? Let us stay a little." With that he pushed her and Irulan gasped with surprise before she fell on the bed. She had time to turn around before Legolas was above her, pinning her into the mattress. She laughed again. "We didn't even start exploring yet!" she said finally with a whine.

"Aren't you tired?" He wiped away hair from her face before he placed a gentle kiss on her temple. "It has been more than two hours."

"Really?" She felt the tiredness creeping up to her, then, as if having only waited for someone to say it. "I think I am," she added with a yawn. She gave the bed a wishful look. It smelled old but Irulan was more than willing to give it a chance rather than pass one more day on the floor.

Legolas smiled down at her. "Sleep here, then. We can continue later."

Irulan looked at the window and noticed that the light seemed to be a bit darker. She shook her head finally. "Not before I have a bath. I smell dreadful!"

He chuckled again and rose first to grasp her hand. "Eating wouldn't be a bad idea, either. You will need your energy for later," was his sly addition.

Irulan bit down a smile and tried to look confused. "What for?"

Legolas, who seemed to be in a better mood with every passing hour laughed again and pulled her out of the room. "Testing my will-power, Irulan? Because I can relieve you from that duty by simply saying in a few hours I will run out of it utterly and completely." He grinned at the blush that crept up her face and at her exasperated expression, pulling her further through the dark hall.

* * *

The three woman sitting in the hot pool of water were silent at first. Each seemed focused solely on the sound of dripping water, the warmth of it on their skin and the soft glow of lanterns in the cave. Irulan had never thought that a warm bath could feel so good - it was like a gift from heaven after all the dust-covered and filth-filled days in the wild. She thought of epics that dealt with that sort of adventure and decided that everyone had to be stinking horrendously in reality.

She sighed and rubbed her arms again. "Does it live up to your expectations?" Mona said gently from beside her. "The house, I mean."

"Oh, so much more than my expectations!" Irulan sighed, leaning her head on the brim of the pool. "I didn't get the chance to go through it yet. It's so big!"

She saw Mona nodding from the corner of her eye. "I'm afraid it doesn't hold many artifacts as his other estates would. There is no one here to guard it."

Irulan nodded absent-mindedly. She had, of course, been a little disappointed by the emptiness of it, after having expected heaps of items in each chamber. But it made sense - why would Baeron preserve his most treasured valuables in this estate when he had no one to protect it or no possible system to secure it? Legolas had said that she would find far more in his more urban settlements that had proper alarm systems and security.

On the other hand, the disappointment was only mild. "You know...I think it's the journey itself that was the important part."

The silence stretched on for a few minutes and finally Mona said "You have come a long way, King-daughter."

Irulan blinked and met the warm brown gaze. "I have, haven't I?" she said slowly.

Mona nodded only once. "Where will you go from here?"

Irulan knew of course that Mona wasn't asking about an actual traveling plan. She shrugged a little shyly, uncertain of the future but certain of one thing. "Wherever I go, I won't go alone anymore."

Mona smiled with satisfaction and glanced at Anne who, keeping her distance to Irulan, was gazing blankly into the water, seemingly unsure of what to do with herself. "And you, Anne?"

The blonde woman started at that, suddenly self-conscious. "Me? What about me?"

Irulan gave her friend a sidelong glance and sighed deftly. She had never been good at holding a grudge and although she was really mad at her friend, too much had passed between them to make this action break them apart. She thought of saying something like 'She'll continue her education and get a master's degree in meddling,' but quickly decided against it. She didn't like to be snappy. Especially in a warm pool at the end of a hard journey. "What do you mean, what about you?" she said with slight exasperation. "You know what this is about."

Anne, at first a bit surprised that Irulan had spoken to her -and not in a chastisising voice, either- blinked, then pursed her lips and continued staring into the water. "I don't know," she mumbled at last. She gave the other women a sidelong glance that spoke of a desire to express herself but also a well-guarded defense. "I mean...a lot has happened. I haven't digested most of it yet."

Irulan waited a while longer, then asked in a casual tone "What about Russel?"

To her surprise, Anne blushed. Despite herself, Irulan felt a certain satisfaction and slyness at the vision. It was somewhat exhilarating to see Anne fumbling for words. The blonde cleared her throat and sunk a little lower into the water. "Stop, Irulan," she mumbled at last. "It's hard enough as it is."

Irulan didn't answer immediately but gazed at the ceiling, dancing with light and shadow high above them. "It's so strange. How our feelings clash with our mental barriers or the social reserves we bound ourselves to."

"Did you know about Russel?" Anne asked suddenly and if she didn't know better, Irulan would think that she sounded angry.

"No!" she said defensively, almost immediately snapping out of the dreamy mood. Then a moment later. "Well...I had a hunch about it..."

Anne's blue eyes widened. "A HUNCH? How come you never told me?"

She shrugged. "It was only a feeling...and not always. I mean I wasn't really sure about it and I never thought it out. Besides, you seem to see everything so perfectly clear, I figured that you'd be wiser in it."

It was meant to be stingy but Anne's reply was rather rueful. "I had no clue! Absolutely none!"

"It must have been hard for Russel," Mona said softly just then and both women turned to look. Mona, though, seemed unaware of their interest and their exchanged raised eyebrows. "To hide it from everyone."

Irulan shifted a little and thought that she had finally caught the chance to prod Mona a little. "What I don't get," she said with innocence, "why he would hide it."

Mona parted the water with her arms a couple of times, like a butterfly lazily testing her wings. "It is a complicated thing - emotions. Who knows his reasons?"

"Well what do YOU think?"

Mona sighed. "I would assume that he was afraid more than anything."

"Afraid?"

"Don't be so surprised, Anne," Irulan said dryly. "He was probably afraid that you'd chew his head off."

"I would not!" Anne protested, then with a more controlled voice "That's ridiculous. Me and Russel are best friends. He knows better than expect a reaction like that from me."

"Really?" Mona said dreamily and fixed her brown orbs on her. "I think his fear was BECAUSE he was your best friend. Tell me Anne," was her languid addition, "now that you know...can you go back to things as they were?"

Anne squirmed a little under the stare of the other two, opened her mouth a couple of times for a witty reply, then decided against it. "No," she whispered finally. "No, I don't think I can."

Mona nodded, her eyes speaking of curiosity and understanding. "So he has lost you. No matter what the answer now, he has lost you as the friend that you were to him before."

"That's not true," Anne said, obviously disturbed. A short silence stretched. "Who said that we can't be friends AND more?" she added with frustration.

"Who indeed?" Mona grinned almost wolfishly.

At that, the blonde woman blushed a little once more and diverted her gaze.

"Are you saying that you're going to go out with Russel!" Irulan's voice boomed in the silence and she herself cringed at the disbelief in it.

"No!" was Anne's perhaps too hasty reply. "No, of course not."

Since the declaration all Irulan had wished had been this reply. She remembered the sharp jealousy she had felt earlier that day and the sensation of solitude. She remembered her own inner panic at the thought of something so dear to her changing for good and leaving her in the open. She also remembered, of course, the inner voice that protested such comments and argued how she had chosen Legolas and that this meant a change on her own behalf. It was selfish, she had thought, to think that one could change as she wanted but no one else should.

So she had wished secretly for this answer from Anne. Therefore her response surprised her more than the other occupants in the pool: "You will REFUSE him!"

Anne blinked in surprise and found herself unable at the tone of bafflement and anger. "Refu...It's not like he ASKED for anything, Irulan!"

"Well he did!" she protested. "I mean in an indirect way."

Anne, still surprised by the looks of it just gave her a long, blank look. "The last person who should talk about subtle messages and hints and 'indirect requests' is you and you know it. You don't see anything until its rammed up your nose."

She waved the comment away (since it was true) and while a part of her mind wondered how suddenly she sounded very much like Anne herself, her mouth babbled on. "If you do, it'll break his heart! You can't do that."

"You want me to go out with Russel?" Anne said, baffled beyond words.

"No, of course not," Irulan said hotly. There was a long silence as they looked at each other, both equally clueless and frustrated. "Well, maybe," she said sheepishly at last.

"You can't be serious!" Anne replied. She had regained her composure, judging by her tone.

Irulan rubbed her forehead. "You heard what Mona said. You can't go back. You will either have to go further or...make this awkward silent pact with him to remain friends when both of you know that it's make-believe."

"But I mean..." Anne groped for words, "I mean...we CAN'T go out! It'll be so weird!"

Irulan gave a sidelong glance to Mona who was listening with silent interest. She chose her next words carefully, aiming for Mona more than Anne. "Look, Anne...I mean it's obvious at this point that none of us will marry a farmer and have five kids. It's...we aren't ordinary people and we should start to get used to the idea of having not so ordinary lives." She broke off for a moment, thinking all her words were foolish, then forced herself to continue and hopefully somewhere along to the way to make sense, as well. "Personally I think Russel is a great guy. And he knows you better than anyone else. I mean if a guy knows your disgusting, ugly, dark side and still loves you, that must be true love." Anne was looking at her as if she had hit her head. Hard. "You can work it out over time anyway," she said, dismissively, suddenly having lost interest in the conversation.

"Well...like I said...I don't know," mumbled Anne. A long moment passed in silence. Then "I'm sorry Irulan. I really am. You know that, right?"

"I know that," Irulan said softly, her thoughts far away. "It's not easy to accept it...but at least I know you're sincere."

That marked the end of the conversation. All three women grew quiet and drifted into their own thoughts for a while and finally they rose to get dressed and leave the cave to the men.

* * *

Irulan walked into the great hall as darkness set. There was an enormous canopy of stars overhead and she smelled the bamboo once more, moving with a strange music outside the house. The darkness was incredible - almost overpowering, but the Moon shone bright and strong. She ventured out the open doors into the cool night and stood there, gazing into the dark forest. Standing here, it wasn't hard to imagine that time had bypassed this place and that they were somewhere in a pocket, in ancient China. Inevitably she thought how many times Baeron must have stood here, in his solitude, and gazed into this same forest. She wondered what thoughts must have crossed his mind and whether he had ever felt as alone and small as she felt right now.

She stood for a long time. Another cool gust of air blew by her and she hugged herself, shivering a little. Something soft and warm was draped across her shoulders then and Irulan jumped despite herself. "You shouldn't stand out here. You're not fully recovered yet."

She smiled as he came to stand beside her. It always surprised her to see how handsome Legolas really was. But she had realized one thing - his beauty was not merely a physical one. It was the fact that he was a bundle of the past, clinging madly to the present and fighting for a better future. More than anything else, at this moment Irulan felt proud to be the one he had chosen to stand beside him in his long, tedious and lonely journey through life. 'And for how long will that be?' she thought to herself just then. A different darkness from the one surrounding here crept into her heart at the thought. It was far more depressing and sad. 'Is this how every woman feels when she is in love with an elf?'

"You are troubled," Legolas said, a smile in his voice.

Irulan started, becoming aware of his intense gaze. "It seems so long ago," she whispered, looking into the forest once more, "since we met. Rome seems so long ago right now." Legolas was silent but she felt his attentiveness in his silence. "I remember," she whispered with a sigh, "how I felt then. I think it was when I fell in love with you."

He didn't say anything. He had nothing to say. But more than that, he wished her to continue. He wished her never to stop. This was what they should have been talking about - not grief, anger and the regrets of the past. The precious little time they had had together hadn't allowed them the luxuries all other lovers shared and took for granted. He waited out in silence, hoping to hear more of her heart.

"When you guided me through the market…remember?" He nodded, not sure if she could see the gesture, but she continued. "I don't think I was aware of it then. I would have denied it for sure if you'd asked me," was the more amused addition. "But as we walked through that crowd and you spoke of old Rome…and then of how no one has really loved you before…" Her voice broke and she looked up at him, a curious anxiety in her expression. "Do you remember?"

"How could I forget?" he whispered.

"What makes one fall in love with another, Legolas?"

He knew that look. The look that mortals seem to have reserved for elvenkind only. The look that made them appear as children, looking up for an answer from the wiser, the older, the smarter ones they trusted so much. Alas, in this he was neither wiser, nor smarter. Life taught many important things, but, he had discovered, it really taught none of the really important things. His fingers came up to her cheek and he caressed her face, hoping that it would wipe the sadness and the confusion away. "I don't know, my love," he said at last. "They say it is a need, answered with a need in kind. But I know it's more than that. Perhaps it's the rediscovery of a bond, that exists somewhere beyond the plane of this life." Irulan nodded, as if the reply had really been an answer to her burning question. "Does it matter?" he said finally.

"No," Irulan sighed again and turned away from the forest to gaze up at him. "At this moment, nothing matters that much." This time it was her turn to smile and reach up to touch his cheek. His eyes glittered with apprehension, but he made no move other than that. "I have missed you, Legolas. More than I could have imagined missing anyone." She was silent for a moment and he thought he heard the drumming of his own heart. It felt so strange to be so excited at this moment. What was this talent of hers that made him feel so awkwardly young again? "Now that I'm here with you…" her fingers glided down his chin and played wit the buttons of his shirt while she frowned and spoke own, almost absent-minded, "…I find it hard to believe that once I thought I could live an entire lifetime without you."

The silence of the night stretched between them and Legolas felt as if the whole world was watching their exchange. The stars in their cold glittering envy, the trees in their trembling admiration, the beasts in their silent desire. None so lucky as him. He finally managed to whisper her name and it was all he felt capable of saying. He didn't think there was anything left to say, anyway.

The kiss that followed was full of promise. The promise of a time when he would make up for his mistakes and erase them so absolutely, that even the memory of them would be wiped away. The promise of a future that held the unthinkable for him - eternal happiness. For what could the world do to him now, to overpower the bliss Irulan had granted him.

His hands grasped her shoulders, then coursed down to her waist to press her against him as his hunger translated into a kiss that was like flame to fire - feeding it further and further, to the point that he thought he would die if she refused him now. Irulan broke the kiss, gasping for breath as he groaned in disappointment and sought her lips again. She turned from him and he kissed her face, her neck, her jawline instead, feeling himself coming awake as if breaking the crust of a long hibernation that had lasted many, many winters. An incredible need built in him, further and further, the like he could not remember himself having felt before. The need to possess, to consume, to conquer.

"Legolas…" she gasped as her lips closed on her earlobe and he smiled at the shudder that ran through her, remembering this reaction just like he remembered all her weaknesses.

"If you seek to refuse me now," he growled into her ear, before he suckled on it once more while she wiggled in his arms, "it is too late. I don't have the strength to wait any longer."

"Nor do I," was her surprising whisper in reply. Legolas drew back and gave her a long, smoldering look. At last, it was desire that clouded her eyes. Not anger or annoyance. Not stubbornness or desperation. He thought that she had never looked so beautiful.

A moment later Irulan found herself in his arms as he purposefully strode to the gate, then continued in the dimness of the fluttering lanterns into a corridor. She laughed a little despite herself. "I can walk, you know."

"Not fast enough," was his curt reply as they entered one of the caves, but Legolas didn't slow down and crossed the rock bridge with graceful determination.

"Where are the others?"

"I neither know, nor care," he said, locking eyes with her.

Irulan swallowed, suddenly feeling already stripped naked by that gaze alone. It was true that Legolas was an incredibly passionate lover. That had been more than obvious even the first time they had made love. But tonight he was…ablaze. He was sundering with a need she hadn't seen in him before. If the past months of denial had served as some sort of foreplay for this night, she wasn't sure if she would survive it. "You know…I'm still sore from the riding," she stammered and he grinned with a grin that could only be a promise for further soreness. "And you said yourself that I haven't recovered fully yet…"

"Save your breath, Irulan," he cut in, amused. "You will need it."

She remained silent then, trembling in her own excitement as caves, bridges, rooms and halls passed them by like alien objects in a wonderland. When they finally reached the room Irulan had seen earlier that day, she thought she would collapse as soon as he set her on her feet. Thankfully he sat her on the bed instead and instantly his fingers grasped the roots of her hair, forcing her head towards him as he crept up the bed and almost languidly continued the kiss. It was not as aggressive this time, but even more passionate. All the words, the witty remarks, the curt comments escaped her mind, then. The world shrank back into something warm and fuzzy. There was simply nothing else but this man in her arms and his solid, unchanging love for her. After the passion faded, the flesh rotted, the mind faltered, there was this spirit she could fall back onto. It was a gift - hammered into shape for her from a metal that was known as unbendable, unbreakable.

Irulan closed her eyes and allowed herself a respite from everything else. The memory of their last night together in Legolas' castle in England swam back and slammed into her heart. It surprised her how the intimacy and physical connection with this man seemed to weaken everything in comparison. Also, how it washed away the urge to hold back, to hang on to her mistrust, to step back into caution and reserve. She had forgiven him, hadn't she? In the end, she really had. That forgiveness had also huffed away all the doubts she had regarding this affair. The plain and simple truth was, she was in love with Legolas and she wanted him by her side. How that would work out in the outside world -back in her own world- was not valid at this moment. What kind of sacrifices this decision entailed would be something she would ponder upon later. Right now, here in China, she was wanted and needed in a fashion nobody had ever wanted or needed her before and she would follow that call.

What did every single living creature want and seek other than to love and being loved in return, anyway? This summit, reserved to so few lucky souls, spread before her now and Irulan let herself feel the fragile, wild soar of love, along with the sweet relief of being loved in return.

And Legolas did love her.

As if in need to prove the dimensions of it, he strived to show it in any way he could muster - sometimes passionate and demanding, sometimes tender and careful, at other times reckless and joyful. His fingers re-discovered every inch of her body as if he wanted to mark it as his forever. Irulan, always strangely feeling more feminine in his presence than in the presence of any other, suppressed every other protest and reveled in that feeling. She had learned by now that Legolas' claim of her didn't hold any underestimation or the desire to overpower. She knew that when he possessed her, it was far from a person possessing an article. So she didn't feel timid in the face of his masculinity or his aggressiveness. If he felt the need to assure himself, her and everyone else that Irulan was his, and if that assertion was going to give him the long-sought inner peace, then she would not block his way any longer.

She opened up to him and he felt it, his eyes locking on hers as their passion became something of frightening vitality. It was the last barrier between them - her mistrust in the nature of his claim, her 21st century mind that could not grasp a different sort of equality between man and woman, her unwillingness to give herself wholly and fully to a man - and Irulan lifted it away as if lifting the duvet of her bridal gown to expose her true face. No one else would, but Legolas felt and understood the measure of her gift and he seemed momentarily disbelieving in the face of it. He halted and a strange calmness came over him as he gazed at her for what seemed a long time but was in fact merely seconds. He touched her cheek then, eyes never leaving hers, as if to assess his ownership, his territory. Irulan watched him, silent but not afraid or timid. Even though she had never really faced a crossroads as this one, she knew instinctively that there were moments that demanded sacrifices - any kind of sacrifice. When she had first met Legolas and a bud of possibility had dared to bloom between them, she had hoped to believe that despite the chasm of difference between them, it wouldn't mean a relationship entirely different from the ones she had had before and that the only difference would have been an improvement. The days and events that followed had proved her wrong. Now she knew better and the choice she was facing was simple and black and white. The path that led to Legolas didn't mean convenience or necessarily comfort. It was a road that gave a lot but also took a lot in return.

Legolas the elf, the man, the figurehead of the Circle certainly meant major changes in her life. And not all of them were changes of her life-style. For one thing, it was in his nature to invade and to possess. He was used to getting what he wanted and every time he wanted it. He also was used to leading, to being the decision-maker and the one who pulled the other. Certainly there were elements to him that softened the picture - his kindness, his politeness, his grace or his deep care and love for her, for instance. But they didn't change the entire picture and now that Irulan was gazing at it, she knew that if she agreed to be with Legolas, it meant a life very different from the one she was leading today. For instance, a trip such as the one she was in at the moment, would be impossible for her in the upcoming future. It was unthinkable to walk away from Legolas and embark on a solitary adventure. Irulan knew that he would respect her privacy and would even -despite his own wishes- grant her the chance to do things alone sometimes. Of all people, Legolas would probably the person who understood the need for solitude most. But he would never allow her to walk out in the manner she had - unprepared, unknowing, untied and uncaring.

The kiss on the corner of her lips parted her thoughts and she looked up to see a smiling Legolas leaning closer, his breath caressing her skin as he enfolded her into a tighter embrace. Though there had been no words between them, it was evident that he had felt her offer and had accepted it with graceful gratitude. He kissed her temple and Irulan closed her eyes, dwelling in the momentary respite from the smoldering passion.

And then it occurred to her that she wasn't the only one who would make sacrifices. As a matter of fact, maybe she would be the one making the least of sacrifices. It would be stupid to think that a relationship of this magnitude didn't mean immense change for Legolas, either. After all, he was the unattached, untamable bachelor of all times. He was a man of duty and of mission and perhaps for the first time, was facing the option of being something more than simply a soldier for the fate of the human race. She smiled deftly and embraced him back, suddenly aware of how selfish she had become. How selfish this single life in a modern world had made her. And how wary and cautious and uncaring of anyone else.

"I love you," she whispered into his neck. There had to be more memorable, more important things to say but at the moment this was all she could think of and it seemed to be all that mattered.

When Legolas answered it wasn't with words but by touch. A touch that encompassed an entire night and blew her spirit out from her body to soar in an ocean of pleasure and bliss and soar again and once more until she knew that she had to return to the world or die. It was with reluctance but the choice of the inevitable that she chose life. And Legolas, of course. He held her through the trembling aftershock, soothing her spirit with the gentle caress of his hands. Until his passion soared again and forced a similar passion from her, something that fed on her and at the same time fed her.

So they flew through the night, as an entwined ball of fire and flame, sometimes floating in the calmness that was either after or before the storm, sometimes diving into the wild burst of nature, then back into clear skies again. Somewhere in the back of her mind Irulan knew that this was far more than a mere, lustful physical union and when the façade of passion fled into the background to give enough room for rational thought, she was absolutely sure of it – nothing physical could ever be this powerful. Then the flesh took over again and she surrendered to it, allowed herself to be led by the surety of his touch, the truth of his spirit.

The hours crept by but time meant nothing to her in this strange place, so far from everything she knew and yet so familiar because she shared it with someone who was closer to her than she thought anyone could be. Between the cry of the body and the song of the spirit, the ache of tiredness, the joy of love, the relief of having come to a final decision, night turned into dawn and even the strongest urge of intimacy became too weak to answer. Irulan crawled into his embrace, feeling a strange buzz pulsing from her, feeling tired and energized, happy and oddly sad, small and yet so very, very important at the same time. Here in the warmth of his embrace, with his lips on her temple she was as safe and content as in her mother's womb. It seemed then that if nothing else, this sentiment of utter safety and peace was reason enough to give all she had to Legolas so that he would keep her here, where she finally belonged.

"If I die tonight, I will die happy," she mumbled into his neck, not really conscious of her words and already prepared to dive into much needed sleep.

His open palm glided to her waist and he pressed another kiss on her temple. "Don't speak like that," was the whisper of a reply.

Against the urge to sleep and rest, she forced her thoughts into motion, as if the conversation was vital. "Why?"

A long moment passed in silence and Irulan fell almost asleep when she was stirred once again by his solemn reply. "Why speak about death now at the threshold of life?"

She sighed and pulled back a little, focusing on his face. Legolas smiled and placed a long, warm kiss on the crook between her shoulder and her neck before he reclined again, his fingers slightly massaging her hip. Perhaps he tried to look confident, but despite the overwhelming fragrance and the glorious sight, Irulan felt the slightest nudging of a thorn somewhere in the shadowy corners of that rose bush. Her fingers touched his jaw and her eyes held his as their breathing slowly lost its harsh edge. "We will all die one day, won't we?" she mumbled. It was odd – to talk about this to someone who surely must know the fact far better than herself and feel the need of a strange persuasion, simply because Legolas seemed to steer away from it. "I mean it's only natural. For humans," she added finally.

Still that guarded gaze in his eyes and that peculiar tightness to his lips. He didn't answer immediately but played with her hair, brushing away the strands that hung to her face. "It is far ahead for you yet," was his rather dismissive reply at the end.

"You don't know that," she sighed, suddenly too tired to continue.

"Yes, I do!"

The authority and protest in his voice puffed her sleep away and Irulan started from her daze. She looked at his expression that spoke of fury under a tight lid and slowly forced herself to wake further, because there seemed to be something really absurd happening here. Absurd because she couldn't imagine fighting over so unlikely a matter with Legolas after having made love for hours. But he looked too serious to laugh it away, so she frowned and waited until the right words came to her mind.

"Don't be childish, Legolas," she said slowly, a smile spreading on her lips despite herself. "I shouldn't be the one to tell you that."

"Exactly," he mumbled somewhat sternly and planted another kiss on her forehead, attempting to gather her into his embrace again.

But Irulan, her curiosity piqued by his attitude as well as her restlessness about the topic as it had been nudging her for days now returning, gently pushed him away. He gave her a questioning and disturbed glance and waited out her silence. "I have been thinking about this," she said slowly at last, then swallowed. She thought of Cate and their conversation a few weeks ago in New York when they had met by chance. Or had it been chance? Cate, who at last had won what she had desired for over a decade – the option of being with Jonathan forever. Until now, Irulan had only felt disbelief at the idea of it. Her relationships had spun hardly over a year and a couple of years –no, a couple of decades or even centuries- to spend with someone seemed too difficult to grasp for her mortal mind. And yet…she glanced at the silent and expectant man at her side…yet, what if that man was Legolas?

Still, she would never dare to think of immortality. It was unnatural and frightening to her and since she wasn't born that way, she didn't think that she had what it would take to face it. Despite a rather tempting idea of having more time with Legolas and living that time in her prime, without the fear of age creeping onto her. No, it was out of question.

So she would age. Then die. Till now, it was only natural. Now, lying here with Legolas and loving someone as much as she loved him, it was also…sad?

"And?" was his quiet and somewhat anxious question that brought her back.

"And," sighed Irulan, combing his soft hair through her fingers, "I don't know what to think. I mean…it's…it's strange to me now. The fact that I will grow older and you will always be the same. The fact that I will…"

"It is strange for you to think that far ahead," he interrupted, a mild fierceness in his tone once more. At her look of irritation he gathered her palm and gave it another signature kiss. "Age would only add to your beauty anyway," he continued, forcing himself to sound more seductive instead of displeased. "You know you could loose nothing by it."

His second attempt to kiss her was thwarted as well. "No kidding! Legolas, instead of avoiding it, you could try to help me understand it, you know."

"Not tonight," was his tired reply. The truth of the matter was, he would not. Not tonight, not any other night. He knew only too well what Irulan meant, of course. He had been bitten by the beast of mortality too many times not to know. The pain of loss. The protest against the inevitable. This was where his might and power ran out. This was a realm he could not step into, much less do any deed about. He was banned from the road she had to take and the thought alone sent a punch to his stomach. He dared not face it. He would not face it. Childish it might be, but Legolas felt that he had deserved the right to be a little childish at this point.

"When, then?"

"If you are not too tired to ask bleak questions, maybe I should use that to my advantage," he said and this time kissed her soundly on the lips, ignoring her struggle. He moved to lie on top of her, catching her face between his hands and prolonging the kiss. She relented at last. Not because she was through with the questions but because she was indeed too tired to prove a match for his stamina. He pulled back to look at her and smiled at her expression that spoke of anger, love and exhaustion at the same time. "But if you are good and quiet," he whispered, then leaned in to kiss her ear, "I will be patient."

Irulan exhaled in frustration, shot his smug expression an angry look, then resigned from her intention. "Fine, I guess," she mumbled. He smiled broader, gave her a softer kiss before sliding off her and forcing her to return to his embrace as he pulled the cover over her back. She was silent for a few moments, but Legolas could feel the restlessness underneath that and was ready for the small protest that followed. "But…"

"Don't," he cut in smoothly, forestalling her. 'I will not face it,' he thought to himself, mentally shuddering at the idea of death and loss. Especially at a night like this. She quieted and despite the feeling that he had maybe hurt her by ignoring to deal with her problem, he allowed it to fade away. Knowing Irulan, she would bring it up sooner or later anyway, so what was the haste? For now, all he wanted to do was to lie here in contentment and enjoy the fact that he had achieved his heart's desire.

"Why?" she whispered many minutes later, when he was almost certain that she had fallen asleep.

He almost shook his head. So like Aragorn! The only thing that Aragorn had given up had been his life at the very end – and that because he was convinced that it was the right thing to do. That path of thought brought unease into his heart once more and Legolas frowned, disturbed at the betrayal of his own mind. "Because your timing is wrong," he said aloud, trying to be as gentle as he could. What he really wanted to say was 'Because I won't let it happen! Because you will live and never taste death and decay!' But he couldn't say that.

And then a very strange thing happened. Suddenly and very surprisingly Legolas realized that indeed, he COULD say that. He could even DO it. His heart jumped in his chest and his eyes flew open with the realization. Merely seconds later he had to suppress a laughter – laughter at his own stupidity at not having realized this before or at the joy of having found a solution to what seemed to be the meanest and greatest problem of all. And only moments after that bliss came the realization that in fact, he HAD thought about it – only not boldly. Never boldly. But secretly and deftly and wishfully. It was, he realized in the silence of the room with Irulan's warmth beside him, a shadow that he had been carrying around ever since he had fallen for her somewhere between the stroll in Italy and the wandering in France. At least that's what he could pinpoint, for he was not sure whether it had been far before that.

He shifted slightly to fold his arm on her back and listened to her slow, even breathing. Irulan, it seems, had taken his last protest as a decent explanation and decided to let it go. For now. Then he cautiously dared to glance into the eye of his mind again. 'Why not?' it said, almost with sly enjoyment. 'Many have done it before you. Many will do it still. It's no crime and certainly no vice. How else would it be for someone of your kind?'

Legolas took a deep breath and tried to still his heart in fear that Irulan would hear its gallop and wake. The excitement tingled in his belly and spread out to his limbs and he was about to let go to the glee when his conscience kicked in. 'She would never accept, you know this.'

Despair flickered in him at the truth of the statement. Irulan had confessed him many times that she had never considered immortality and would not do so, either. Her mortality was something that completed her – like the beauty of dark skin or slanted eyes. If all humans were the same perhaps there wouldn't have been any racial disputes or any kind of prejudice based on physical differences, true, but the beauty that made humans who they were, the wild variety would be lost as well. Mortality completed Irulan and he knew that the theft of it would leave her somehow…scarred and lacking.

'You are clouding your mind with nuances – minor details,' broke in the desire of his heart once more. 'She is not a combination of elements, she is not the sum of her parts. She will still be the same and maybe more after the Turn.' Legolas pursed his lips. He had tackled these and similar questions countless times since the issue of granting mortals eternal life had first begun as a practice. He had discussed it with others, pondered about it in solitude for long days, sought answers in anything he could get his hands on. But before this moment it had been a rhetorical and perhaps ethical complication – a scientific curiosity, a psychological puzzle. Something that was common at the border where elf and human met. Now, though, he could not deny that it had a very strong personal flavor to it and no objective comment would be satisfying to him any longer. Because now not only his mind, but also his heart had to be stilled.

'She would never accept,' he told himself. It seemed easier to turn from the path of temptation before one began to thread on it than to enter and to make one's way back. The statement carried such sadness with it, that Legolas felt his throat go dry and another, perhaps stronger part of him fought it relentlessly.

'Now, she wouldn't. But give her time. Time to love you, time to get used to you, time to need you and to desire you. Then, faced with the loss of it, she will see the wisdom in the choice.'

For a moment, it seemed like a cruel thing to think. It was like…well, manipulating her. And the idea that he had to manipulate Irulan into loving him was highly disturbing to say the least. What made this special was, after all, the fact that Legolas didn't have to BE a certain way to be loved by her. Maybe for the first time, this relationship didn't depend on his efforts to win someone over by sheer impressiveness and attractiveness or overwhelming grandeur. He was what he was and Irulan knew him –his weaknesses as well as his strengths, his defects as well as his gains- and she loved him anyway. She would love him more in time, as she got to know him better, of this he was certain, but he skirted from the idea of steering her into that course himself.

Then he realized that he didn't need to manipulate her to love him, exactly. He only had to manipulate her to act on that love. To accept something that in the long run would benefit not only him but also herself and well...certainly also all humanity. 'After all,' Legolas eagerly continued his deduction, she was an asset to the Circle and she would, no doubt, contribute much to it if she was given the means and time for it.

'And what of the madness that comes with the choice?' boomed a protest in him. That, he mentally waved away immediately. In the past, it had been a strong point in his own arguments against Turning mortals. But he had known even then that the mental instability was not always the case and that it was almost completely missing in the more recent conversions. The reason for that was not clear to him, but he had a sharp mind and infinite source of knowledge on his hands. If he put these to use, he had no doubt that he would discover much on the subject and eventually solve the mystery behind it. Then the threat of madness would not exist for Irulan or any other mortal who would dare to take the harder and less traveled road to immortality.

He smiled a contented smile. He had many years to silently work into Irulan's stubborn mind that this was not only an option, but a good one. Perhaps the best one. Maybe even an inevitable one. Years of intimacy when he could gently nudge her into first consideration, then open questioning and discussion and finally acceptance. It was a time he never had with Aragorn, who was too busy and distant from him to wedge these ideas into him. And he knew that Arwen had been dead against it so he had never stood a chance with his friend. But with Irulan it was different. It was rather hopeful.

It would have even been more hopeful if that dark, damned vision of his did not flare up in his head just then. The red stain on blue kimono, greedily drinking its fill from the fabric bloomed in his mind and he took a sharp breath, felling pure terror lingering in the corners of his heart, eager to stalk in. "It was a vision, nothing more!" he whispered fiercely into the darkness of the chamber and only then realized that he had actually spoken the words out loud. As if to make it stronger he repeated them. "It was a vision, nothing more. A bad dream, a hidden fear…some silly connection in my mind." He breathed deeply to throw off the sense of imbalance and slowly it ebbed away, probably driven off by the strength of his belief. On an impulse he kissed her temple, then leaned his cheek on it. Irulan was here, in his arms, safe and sound and that premonition had proven to be untrue, since they had managed to save her, after all. "You hold no threat any longer. Go away," he whispered into the night and it obeyed, lifting itself from his heart and fading away as bad, silly dreams should do.


	19. Tying All Loose Ends

_I received some awesome reviews for both FATH and Pentimento. It's astonishing that there are new readers after all this time. Astonishing in a very good way, of course. I'll try to answer all mails that have an address to reply to so try to leave one. _

_Alas, another chapter. Took long enough. I am glad that the slow pace of this story hasn't really scarred people away. I thought it might, since it's always easier to read fast-paced action and adventure. But once again, a little change has killed no one. Yet. _

_I must admit that this story is nearing its conclusion. Not too many chapters left. But don't worry, I won't make it too easy. _

…

Irulan closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on pushing everything away and letting the great emptiness engulf her. It was no easy practice but she decided that she would never come to enjoy the atmosphere of the house if she didn't excel in this art.

Of course the elf had to make it harder.

She felt his lips on her neck along with the dance of fingers that sneaked from behind to fold her into his embrace and sighed with more frustration than passion. "Legolas! I'm trying to concentrate here."

He chuckled briefly against her skin and gave her another kiss. "It is only a worthy victory if there is a challenge."

Irulan opened her eyes and blinked in the dimness of the cave. He kissed her again, tightening the embrace and she fought the tremble of desire rushing through her. Elves, it seemed, were amorous beings with a stamina that could only awe a human mind. Maybe some more than others. "I would much more prefer assistance than challenge at this point." She mumbled and glanced around again as he continued his ministrations, ignoring her protest. This cave was smaller than most but made up for it by being quite unique. Her eyes glided across the drawings on the coarse walls, dancing with the soft shimmer of the nearby torch. "I'm afraid I will _never_ understand Baeron!" she whispered, taking in his deed that seemed to fill almost every scrap of surface offered. "Why would he paint and draw here on walls and in the dark when he could have done it on canvas or paper or any other and much more convenient medium?"

The elf sighed and placed his chin on her shoulder, joining her puzzlement. They were still for a few moments before he offered a soft opinion. "Convenience is overrated. It takes more will and passion to do this."

She shifted a little in his arms. "Yes," was her sigh of a reply. "Also...I don't know...it feels more intimate."

She felt him nod. "It is reserved to only the selected few who can cross the distance and enter this domain and stand in this cave. Perhaps the story of a life was not what Baeron wanted to be seen and judged by anyone with half a mind."

Irulan took a step forward and felt his reluctant release. But Legolas didn't let go of her hand and followed instead. Ever since yesterday he seemed to avoid letting go of her at all. So much so that Irulan felt tempted to think that he feared her loss rather than a persistent passion. Her fingers touched the cool and damp wall and ran across figures that seemed to be sitting on some steps, immersed in some silent and ancient conversation. "What, do you think, does this stand for?"

Legolas moved to stand beside her and looked at it for a while. "Who knows? A moment in Greece I can see. But beyond that, it is closed to me."

"In Greece? How do you know that?"

He cocked his head slightly and his eyes narrowed on their own accord. "The way he drew it. His fingers moved over the drawing that seemed to be so efficient and yet so simple, saying a lot to the knowing eye but speaking nothing other than skill to the ignorant one. "The manner of garments. The pillars in the back...I am certain of the location and roughly of the time. But who these people were and what they spoke is only for Baeron to tell."

"And now he can never tell," Irulan sighed, that damned taste of regret forcing its way up her throat once more. Before she could give in to it, she moved on, gliding to the side and tried once again to see something -anything- relevant, interpretable, recognizable. It all seemed to alien - scenes and poses that were just a jumble of people, but none frozen in an act of any importance. People speaking, people smiling, figures running as if in a hunt, shapes standing on hills... And yet there was life here. More life than any human would ever witness. Baeron's life. The style varied, too. At times it was awkward and clumsy, as if Baeron had been hasty or uncaring of details, only immersed in the desire to jot it down before it slipped away from him. Other times it was done with great care and the details of this or that face were so mesmerizing that it seemed if one could breathe life into stone, they would step out of their slumber and speak of what deed they had done worthy enough to be engraved here. Some were small and faded, others big and sharp. Some had color in them - chalky residues of red, blue and white, and others were merely black smudges.

"How strange...and how beautiful," she sighed after several moments, still not wiser to the silent language that was spoken right under her nose but revealed nothing of its wisdom. "Just like...elves."

Legolas said nothing but walked with her, for once more interested in something than the woman at his side. His surprise woke her trance. "I know this one, I think."

She almost gasped and quickly squinted to see what his fingers were pointing at. "What is it? A lake?"

He nodded. "It is in Finland. The shape is unmistakable."

Irulan looked at it for a long moment. "The frozen lakes of Finland..." she whispered, remembering what Baeron had always mused about. "Legolas, why would he draw that one? What's there?"

The shrug was almost imperceptible. "It meant something to him, though I do not know what. Once our mutual mission took us there and he said nothing but stood at the shore of it for a while, gazing across it." He was silent for a moment. "It must have been a place he returned to from time to time. A place that held his heart."

The frustration rose in her once more. She would never know what it had meant to Baeron or what had happened to him there. Worse, she would never go with him there to share it with him, as she had promised to. She bit her lip to prevent a groan of unrest. Here, in his very house and at the spot he had stood to spill his life into stone, she felt further away from him than she ever had, before. She might be close enough to reach out and touch his work, but she would never understand it. The elf must have felt her unrest, for he stepped closer to her and squeezed her hand ever so slightly. "I am sorry."

Irulan shook her head and swallowed as she turned her head, walking away from the picture of the lake. "It's just such a waste! I wish so much to see...something! To hear something. But it was stupid of me to think that I could. I knew Baeron for merely days. How could I ever hope to glimpse into his past?"

"You are wrong," he said gently. "I knew Baeron for far longer, but am none the wiser. In the end, all our lives are lived by one person alone - ourselves." He halted then and despite her irritation Irulan looked up to see what held his gaze and his breath. "You must know that he trusted you deeper into his heart than he rarely did any other," Legolas added with an eerie whisper as once again his fingers slowly flew out to trace the markings at his eye level. "That he let you wander where he led none, before."

At first she could understand neither his mystified expression, nor the tautness that he had momentarily acquired. But then, with the slap of a tantalizing surprise she recognized the shape there underneath his touch...the rough outline of a small hill, the shadow of boulders just so, the streaks of shadows that stretched into long, black, dancing hair, the crack of an entrance transformed into the hint of a smile. Irulan flinched unwillingly and hastily took a step back to see more of it. Her hand, lost in his, with a launch of desperation sought for a stronger grasp.

And there it was. The curse and the blessing pressed in one - the picture of a woman and the drawing of a tomb married on the wall with such strength that the lines had sunk into the surface as if they had been bleeding with acid and burrowing their tale like the talons of a restless falcon buries them into flesh. The spitting of the torch was suddenly loud in her ears and she felt hot in the cool of the cave, taking no notice of the dancing shadows or the warmth of the elf's touch by her side.

She knew it had a name - this thing that lay here in silence but never slept, never rested as all the other pictures. A name that was like the web of a spider - crossing the life of one over to the other and weaving in and out in circles ever broadening until it had consumed everything it had touched. Until every person who had been touched by the sticky spell of death lay poisoned and weak of it, trembling with fever and revolt. If any curse was true, this would be it. If any damnation was tangible, this would be it.

"Bentanta," Legolas whispered into the silence of the cave and broke it.

Irulan made a guttural sound as it seemed to bloat into its full ugliness, then as suddenly as it had reared head, broke into shards underneath her feet. She held his hand even tighter and felt Legolas, alarmed by that touch, gather her in his arms. She took a breath that threatened to turn into a sob but didn't, then took another, and slowly a third one until she dared to open her eyes, gripping his shoulder as he embraced her and soothed her worries with a string of murmurs. She felt Legolas tremble slightly then and shut her eyes tightly to burrow herself further into the haven that he was. A piece of her mind refused to believe that she had stumbled upon that very tale that she had tried to avoid at all costs after having witnessed its last victim. Or had it been the last victim indeed? Would there be more? She took another shaky breath and murmured. "Of course he would draw that, too." She didn't look back at the wall, afraid that she would see the picture changed, as mad as that sounded. That, somehow, Bentanta would wink back at her, her seemingly innocent smile turning into a devious grin.

Legolas pursed his lips and threw a glance at the wall. At this point he should have been used to curses and to being the subject of one, but this one, it seemed, startled him no matter how often he came across it. The avid hunter that he was, he feared this one beast and felt weak at the slightest hint of its presence. Especially when Irulan was around, too. "It is dead and past," he murmured to himself as a consolation. Irulan stirred to it, so he continued. "It is no more."

She hesitated, then nodded once, but didn't lift up her head to take a second look. 'One day,' she thought then, 'I will write about this. I will write it so that it will ring the same frustration in the hearts of others, although they will never know the truth of it, assuming it as fiction. Maybe all that frustration will still her anger and have her be still, at last.'

"I wish I had never ventured into that land of blood and sand!" Legolas' ferocious whisper startled her. His fingers gently dug into her flesh, drawing her closer still and she sensed that it was him for once who sought refuge, more than herself. "I wish I had never laid eyes on her face!" It was childish, this wish, he knew it. But he could not help wishing it, nevertheless.

It was the fierceness of his want that suddenly reminded Irulan of who Bentanta had been for Legolas. She realized then that she had always seen the Egyptian princess through Baeron's eyes. But there was also the third player in this game. A third pawn. A third wheel. It was funny how this had never really occurred to her until now. Sure, she had known of it - after all, neither Baeron nor Legolas had denied his role in the affair - but she hadn't really dwelt on it. Until now. In the silence of the cave she felt Bentanta come alive once more. As if she meant to reclaim the last player of the game, the last loose thread of the tapestry. The fear as well as the unreasonable jealousy gave her the strength to stir and step away from him. She turned her back to the wall and let her eyes focus on the flames of one of the torches on the wall, desperate to regain her wits. Legolas, due to his care for her or due to the insecurity he found himself in, stayed in her circle, never too far.

"I find it strange," she mumbled, feeling her heart return to its normal pace, "that you now curse the sight of someone whom you must have cared for dearly, before." She felt him stiffen beside her and it would have been unnoticeable to anyone who didn't know what this memory held for the man. Irulan was surprised to find the will to turn and look up into his eyes. "Next thing you know, you'll deny ever having loved her."

Legolas was too old not to pick up the double blade that was swung his way. Either answer - approval or denial - would bear bad things for him. And yet, an answer was expected. "I never denied my weaknesses, nor my mistakes."

Irulan's eyes narrowed ever so slightly and if the topic of the conversation had been anything else, he would have found it marvelous, chuckled at her ire and kissed her soundly for it. But in the current circumstances he didn't feel too glad about it. "To love her was a mistake?"

He sighed, tempted to give Bentanta's drawing a hateful glare for the deeds she seemed capable of, even though her bones had melted away long ago. "To act on it, was."

Irulan bit her lip in frustration. It was downright stupid to feel jealous of a mummy. Something only a foolish human would do. But then, that's exactly what she was. And this woman had stood between her and the ones she loved for too long. The sweet Bentanta who had been frantic at the duel of her two lovers and who had sacrificed her own life to end it (an act that had seemed so honorable to Irulan before) suddenly reminded her more of a spinster who had lured both Legolas and Baeron into her web and who kept pulling the strings long after she had devoured them and satiated her hunger. "So you DID love her?" Immediately her shame at her own foolishness swelled anew. Of course he had loved her! What else could have led to those dreadful events?

"I did," Legolas whispered and this time it was him whose gaze broke and settled on the torch. He was silent for a moment or two. "And I paid for it. Still am paying for it."

As much as he seemed willing to divert the issue from sentiments to his own pain and embarrassment, Irulan was unwilling to let it be so. 'What did you expect?' she thought to herself, feeling sour and moody at the same time. 'That his heart was only yours to claim? That you, with all your imperfections, were someone who would hold it while all others failed? That he waded through centuries untouched and unmoved?' She hadn't thought it. But she had wished for it. The stupidity of it only made her feel more desperate, more human. Also, she suspected that Bentanta, the beautiful princess that she had been, had been more able to handle these feelings than she was, at the moment. 'Look at me!' she thought, a silent laughter of anger surging through her, 'I'm competing with a mummy!' She turned and stalked towards the entrance of the cave, suddenly anxious to see the sun and leave Baeron where he belonged – in the past.

"I know what you are thinking." His voice, so soft and yet so commanding, stopped her. "And you are wrong."

Irulan turned, her eyebrows reflecting her doubt. "Oh?"

"Why do you doubt my word?" was the gentle conclusion.

"I don't," she sighed, somewhat frustrated. "It's just that...ah it's stupid. Just ignore me."

Again she turned to leave and again he forestalled it. "That is something I can not do." Irulan only let out a frustrated sigh and this time didn't face him. She didn't hear his approach but felt his hands cupping her shoulders from behind. "I know," he said slowly, his tone at the border of amusement and gravity, "because I feel the same way about you." Irulan bit her cheeks, not eager to intervene. "It seems foolish to envy every look, every touch you have bestowed to another man in the past," he continued, his hands running down her tense arms, "but I have come to accept my foolishness at last."

Her eyes involuntarily rose once more to the silent messages, lying scattered in some cave in the middle of nowhere. "The past never _really_ dies, does it?" she heard herself whisper. It was as if she was asking the core, the real face of things. The face that everyone flirted and darted around, too afraid to peek at. The face that was ignored, showered instead with claims of untruth, of lovely lies. "Not really. Ever." Once she had claimed that and in the strangest way, managed to soothe the restless spirit that Legolas had been. Today her own claim seemed like a damnation to her own ears. One couldn't have the good without the bad, the gleeful memories without the stabbing ones. Was one better off without it altogether or was it really worth hanging on to?

Legolas walked around to face her and lifted her chin to meet her gaze. "You proved me so," was his eerie whisper. Not the answer she had wished for. Not at all. There were, after all, many things she wished to forget, to leave behind in due time. But, it seemed, things liked to waltz in circles in the universe and get back to you - sooner or later. "I loved Bentanta, yes," Legolas said and she felt the knife of disappointment sliding between her ribs. Nevertheless, their gazes held. His fingers came up to wipe the stray locks from her face. "But not like you. Never like you."

She felt numbed by his whisper and by his touch. And ashamed to have wished for so much, ashamed of the boldness that had made her reach for the sun. What did it matter, if he had? He loved her now, of this she was certain, and his love for another a long time ago didn't lessen it in the least. Until now she had believed this greed to have it all, this avarice to swallow whole to be a flaw of her own race. But after his confession -and maybe long before it, as she had watched Legolas' infuriating jealousy- she knew that she wasn't the only one cursed by it. Did great love always come with such great, mindless greed? Her fingers found his and she watched the light of relief wash over his features. "I know."

A moment passed by as Legolas held her and kissed her. The acceptance had -to her surprise- taken the pain with it. Bentanta was long gone and dead. Irulan was alive. She was lucky not to be tainted by that tale, by that road in the past. So she was free to enjoy tomorrow, free to ignore dreadful past happenings. In the deep core of her heart, Irulan understood that Legolas had loved the Egyptian princess enough to estrange an irreplaceable friend for her. But –and this was an important 'but'- he loved Irulan enough to go to far more extreme measures. No, it wasn't the death of Baeron - she had accepted on that train a few days ago that it hadn't been a murder but an accident, to begin with. With that acceptance had also come the forgiveness, the true forgiveness for Legolas. Extreme measures, in this case, was for Legolas to stamp on his pride, ignore the call of reason, turn his back to the known ways and walk after a woman who, with all the ignorance and coarseness of her race, had refused him over and over again. This, she realized, had been a much greater sacrifice than the friendship of Baeron or the life of Bentanta. This was a self-sacrifice she knew she couldn't match, herself.

She sighed into his shoulder. It seemed like the simple trip to China -though it had turned out far beyond 'simple'- had indeed changed a lot for her. It had been a journey of acceptance, forgiveness, a quest to one's inner sanctum, a yearn for the last touch of a friend. The fruits of it - the sweet as well as the sour - were ripe and edible. In the strangest way, Irulan felt that she had completed something of major importance there and that day. Despite, or maybe because of the danger, the pain, the fear along the way, night gave way to day and even the longest journey ended. Hers had ended in the arms of the man she loved and who loved her in return. She had no reason to complain.

And so it was that, as if spurred by that insight, she felt the need, the call to return. The job was done, the deed accomplished, the road walked and finished. The world was calling and she heard it, despite the heavy stone around her and the distance from her home. Life was calling. The present was calling and its cry was strong enough to overcome the pleasure one found in stalking through the dusty past. Much stronger.

"Let's return," she whispered into the silence. She didn't see Legolas smile against her temple, deep satisfaction seeping into him. He knew why she had said what she had said, just like he knew that it was private and not translatable into language.

He also happened to know the right answer to that. "Let's," he said as he guided her out of the cave, leaving the last fragments of a distant curse behind for good.

* * *

Haldir felt the absurd need to clear his throat and suppressed it. He knew that Mona must have heard his approach long ago, so it hadn't been the urge to be heard, but merely the urge to be acknowledged. Something she seemed to deny him in every thinkable fashion. So, after a few moments staring into her back, he allowed himself a frustrated sigh. "I think we are leaving." His tone had been blank enough and he thanked the gods for that.

"Good."

So much for trying. He pursed his lips, not eager to let another frustrated sigh escape. "It was a good journey." Immediately he rolled his eyes at the stupidity of the remark. Even a human would have sensed his desperate need to make conversation with that statement.

Mona, too, must have sensed it because she finally turned around. There was something about her that always threatened to leave him speechless at her sight. He had long ago decided that because her vision brought some sort of madness with it. Yes, madness was the only word for it. How else to explain the angry buzzing of contradicting emotions in him? How he wished he could tell Mona his feeble attempts to find a suitable place for her in his mind! Was she the girl he had watched growing up? Was she the responsibility entrusted to him and him alone? Was she a fellow warrior? Was she the gentlest of friends? Indeed! She was all that. But she was also a woman - perfect somehow, despite what others might think of her physical plainness. Wasn't she also a creature that had finally, with all the irritable shouting and kicking she had managed over the centuries, succeeded in waking something terribly and hideously beautiful in him? Wasn't she the one and only person he felt his thoughts turning to whenever he was alone but in the company of many? Damn it - she was all that, too.

Madness, that's what she was.

And he was too old for that sort of disease. He found the burden of her silent looks too heavy and gazed at his feet. 'If Legolas knew that all my virtuous words to him about love and hanging on and not giving up were nothing but hollow assurances coming from a hollow man, what would he say?' he thought to himself. For indeed, what else was he but a hypocrite who had laughed at the folly of a friend, only to find himself in deeper folly?

"Was it good for you, too?"

The question startled him from his silent misery. Surprise held his tongue for a moment or two. "Was what good?"

Mona, instead of a gentle smile, produced an upraised eyebrow at his stupidity. "The journey."

He wanted to believe that she was asking out of her care for him of some sort, but the possibility of this being another introduction to hostility was far greater. The gods knew that he had lived long enough to know of the undying and never relenting memory of women! No one could nurture the memory of a wound like they did and slash it open once more without flinching at every possible chance. He thought deftly of saying something polite and unimportant but suddenly felt too tired for the attempt. If she was going to cut him, she might as well do it when he was not trying for a defense. "I saw you on this journey. It made everything worthwhile."

'How come parents as gentle and romantic as hers managed to raise such a frustrating, hard, sharp, cold creature of a woman!' he thought with building anger when no visible emotion appeared on her face at his confession. Out loud he softly said "I have missed you. A lot."

"Have you, now?" was her slightly amused answer. She gave him a long, quizzical look, then walked towards him with the carelessness of her nature.

Haldir, suddenly afraid that she would say something like 'Well, Marchwarden, I haven't!' and break his heart all over again, spoke abruptly. "You know I did!" There was a strange urgency to his tone. Probably because every word was truer than true.

Finally emotion showed in her gaze, though it was not a good one. "If I remember correct, it was you who shunned me," she spat slowly.

True enough. Despite their age, elves still did some very stupid things when tangled in emotional webs. Such as cowering in corners and hoping that whatever the problem was, someone mighty would take care of it or it would simply dissolve itself into thin air given enough time. "I was wrong," he said solemnly. Her surprise didn't elevate him as much as it should have. He feared that making her uneasy would only add to Mona's spite. But at the same time he felt that at the end of a journey like this, after their roads had crossed at last, he should make use of the chance and get over with his own crucifixion. "I had no idea that it would pain me this much." She didn't say anything. Not even anything dark and unswallowable and indigestible. He exhaled and waited a moment. "And of course I had no idea that you could keep a grudge for this long."

Incredible as it was, Mona's lips twitched with the ghost of a smile. Haldir stood, perplexed. He had been waiting for the blade to fall. Hell, maybe the delay is only to make it more painful, he thought then. "Of course you did," she said at last and miraculously, the words didn't drip with venom.

Momentarily stupefied with the glimmer of hope at the end of the tunnel, he reached for more words, whatever they were. "Well if it's any consolation, you accomplished far more than what I gave you credit for."

She shrugged, letting the smile grow a little further. "I have always been morosely obsessed with impressing you, Haldir."

For her to say his name was beyond his expectations and Haldir was certain that it showed on his face, despite his struggle to hide it. He hadn't heard it in so long! Too long, far too long he realized. Incredible, how much it meant for his name to be spoken by one person. Incredible how much power it had over him. He took a sharp breath, his mind chiding him about his boyish, foolish situation in her presence. He was her guide, damn it! Her elder. Her uncle. That word, once so true, lately seemed oddly wrong and silly so he held his ground against reason and decided to continue the ridiculous banter and be someone else for her, for once. Not what she wanted him to be, that much he knew, but someone else. Someone more useful, for Mona didn't need a guide, an elder or an uncle. This once, he could ignore what he was _supposed_ to be and try to be someone she wanted or at least, needed.

He allowed an expression of loftiness creep into his features. "And failed at it, of course."

For a moment he thought he had taken it too far. She gave him a long look and Haldir gazed back, anxious of a reply that confirmed his attempt for a joke. Surely the gravity that came over here couldn't be good, could it? And why was it so damn important not to disappoint her! She was a child! If he wanted to, he could flog her for her slightest impoliteness, cursed be it all! "Except in this, of course," was her serious answer. "In defying you, that is."

Haldir wasn't sure if she was really sad about it or triumphant. He knew her well, granted, but as his feelings for her fluctuated, he felt like he didn't perhaps know her _that_ well, after all. That there was another Mona he had ignored long enough and grown apart from. "Aye," he whispered at last, "that, you do well."

She nodded as if accepting some sort of compliment and tore her gaze away for a moment. The sudden disconnection was most irritating and the elf found himself at a loss for words, once more. What _did_ he want to tell her, anyway? They had said all there was to say about it. She had pushed, begged, cursed, threatened and he had kept his resilient but unbreakable facade in the face of it. Her wish was beyond him. 'I can not be more to you than what I am!' he had begged, frustration coloring his tone. 'It has always been enough for you!' Mona had just looked at him with those dark, tranquil eyes and retorted 'Not anymore'.

Not anymore, indeed. Next to him she was a child but the time had come when Haldir was forced to agree that no matter how many years she had been in this world, Mona had reached maturity and was no longer the little girl who was a little infatuated with her father's closest friend. All creatures had to be judged in their own lifetime and for her, another age had begun many, many years ago.

In short, he had to let go of her.

Or, he had to hang on to her.

There was no in between. Not with Mona. And...not with him, either. It was easy to deny his love to her. It wasn't so easy to do that to himself. Was it love? He sighed, uncomfortable in a territory so ill-known to him. He had loved his share, for sure, and he had had ample chances to witness and observe it. Despite all that so-called archive in the back of his mind, he didn't know what exactly he felt for Mona, except that it was huge and fierce and painful. 'Maybe,' he had thought in the desperation that had come with her absence, 'I DO love her as she says. Only I suppress it because, well... she grew up in my damn hands!'

Legolas had only been too quick to quip that this was a very possible 'maybe'.

Legolas had found love. Cate and Jonathan had found love. Even treacherous Anne was skirting around it. And what of him? He glanced at the woman beside him, who stood silent and seemingly lost in thought. What of Mona? 'Are we to walk eternity alone?' He sighed again. He didn't know how he loved her. It didn't really matter. He knew he loved her in some fashion. It wasn't a lot to hang on to. But it was a start.

"Maybe we can try again, Jiang-qing," he said softly, watching her profile. She started, clear surprise on her face as well as suspicion and mistrust. The latter feelings dissolved into the former one as he felt himself biting his lower lip in discomfort. "I have said and done some foolish things. I would appreciate the chance to do it better." Haldir was not a man to squirm with silence when a confession was due. He was not eager to pretend he was perfect, either. When one lived as long as he had and seen all he had seen, it was almost impossible to grasp of one's own perfection anyway. The world might sing otherwise, but in the privacy of his heart he knew that he was like any other man – no less and no more.

Her response came after a very long interval during which the elf suspected himself of having almost mastered the art of not breathing. It was a simple, subtle nod. Plain and economic as with everything else about her. He knew her language, he knew her ways and the slight softening of her look meant books to him. "You did, indeed, Marchwarden." No reproach in the title this time. Only a matter-of-fact recognition. It felt glorious to be acknowledged in the slightest and he inhaled, the sentiment a warm fuzz in his chest. Never mind that she hadn't tried to deny his mistakes. Leave that to a decent lady. Mona would stray far from such shallow attempts of healing a wounded ego.

"I told you that I'm too old," he said, feeling himself gaining a strange balance that he didn't know he had missed these last days.

Something akin to a snort left her lips and she turned back to her task, knowing that he wouldn't leave but remain with her. "At last I am beginning to believe you."

* * *

"We are so damn lucky to be here to see this," came his awed murmur as his torch appeared behind her in the dark, dripping cavern. He chuckled momentarily. "To think that I would have missed out on all this if Irulan hadn't spoken his name by mistake!"

Anne grinned, too, although her back was turned to him and he wouldn't see it. It was only true. Here they were, in the strange but fabulous house of Baeron and every time she walked the corridors, she seemed to find something else in them. The house was empty for the most part - Baeron must have not visited in a long time - but that took nothing away from its beauty. Especially since there was a sense of adventure involved, as well. "Yeah," she mumbled slowly, continuing the stroll, "it's good to know that there is more to the world than meets the eye, isn't it?"

This time it was her who didn't see Russell's nod. He gave her back a long glance then and kept his silence, resisting the temptation to say something silly like 'It's even better with you as a company'. A certain and most unwelcome sadness gripped his heart once more. Though everything was out in the open now -and God, in what an embarrassing way it had been revealed thanks to the stupid elf!- Anne acted as if the last couple of days never happened. Partly he was glad for it. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if she didn't. Her reaction had been something long pondered upon in the last few years and his imagination had given him some rather discomforting glimpses of possibilities. It had only spurred his fear and helped him to burry the truth deeper, ever deeper until it had become a throbbing thorn in his side.

On the other hand...her complete disregard had been in none of the scenarios he had outplayed in his head. How, he wondered, should he take this silence? 'This kind silence,' he reminded himself. Hadn't Anne been sort of...gentle...afterwards? Most certainly, he convinced himself. As gentle as she had managed to be, anyway. It was a side of her that he rarely saw -most of the time it was the infuriating, attractive, playful, sarcastic and utmost annoying Anne he faced- and to tell the truth, he liked this change. A lot.

She must have sensed his brooding because she turned to glance at him over her shoulder just then. "What's cooking in your head?"

He rolled his eyes, feeling oddly caught red-handed. "Just thinking about the journey back," he said, wording the first thought that sprang into his head.

Anne nodded. Then suddenly another, unreadable expression crossed her face. "Any plans regarding New York?"

It was an innocent enough question but the way she said it -a bit hesitant and even a trifle anxious- made him rethink. Was she actually trying to say something? He wasted a moment in hesitation. "Not really. Why?"

Anne shrugged and waited for him to catch up before she entered yet another chamber that seemed to have a use as a ale depot. She stared at the empty gaskets. "They could have left _one_, the servant pigs!" was her wistful murmur before she abruptly turned to face him. Russell only had the time to see a most unusual anxiety in her eyes before he was slapped with the question: "Do you really love me?"

Years of close friendship with the most unusual woman he had met couldn't have prepared him for this. Naturally he just gaped.

Anne, a bit angry now (more at herself for having asked it then for him to gape speechless), pushed her chin up and glared at him with those green gems. "Cause I think you just made that up. For whatever reason...like you always do!"

He should ignore the last part thrown at him but momentarily it became the most important issue. "Like I _always_ do! When was the last time I plotted, Anne? No need anyway - I leave the mastering of devious schemes to you, sifu!"

Anne pursed her lips and gave him a withering look. She would have laughed at Russell's meager vocabulary of Chinese, now more often being used, but had more important things on her mind. "Don't play innocent with me, Russell. That's certainly not the way to impress me."

He found himself gaping for a few seconds again before he managed a retort. "Who the hell said I was trying to impress you? What the hell for!"

Anne only raised her eyebrows in a knowing manner. "I knew it," she drawled at last. "You do not love me."

He opened his mouth for something burning and acidy, but instead slammed his jaws shut, took a deep breath, combed his hand through his wild hair and gave her as penetrating a look as he was capable of. "As I have said before - you-don't-know-shit."

"I must admit," she countered, "none of the men in my life so far had your vocabulary of romantic terms, Russell."

A dry look from him. "Yeah, I noticed."

That seemed to inflame her. True enough, Russell had an annoying habit of ridiculing her and pinching her pride at every opportunity (never mind that she asked for it half of the time), but in this new light shed on their relationship, it felt more hurtful. "You forget that Mark was a poet!"

This time he didn't need to pretend amusement - the snort was as genuine as it could be. "Spare me any quotations! I still see nightmares about that poem he read to us on New Years!"

For a moment she seemed tempted to concur. After all, that _had_ to be _the_ most awful piece of written word in history. But that would be too easy for Russell. "I never said he was a poet of words. His skill was...in different areas."

Later Anne would think that it had been very, very odd that Russell, who had known of her affair with Mark, who had endured and accepted it without giving away himself for quite a while and who had never given an awkward reaction to any part of her private life, had acted indeed awesomely strange upon those words. No...she really couldn't remember him ever gaining that tint of crimson before. Nor could she recall a time when his hands rolled into fists and shook. Even when he so had heroically (and did one really need to add 'but stupidly') stood by Irulan against the monster Legolas, he hadn't seemed so infuriated.

In short, never having managed to anger him in all their long years together as much as she angered him with those few words, Anne felt a rather strong breath of fear and surprise - enough to realize a mistake and take a step back.

She watched him bristling and shaking with inner turmoil, watched his tantalizing effort to get himself under control before he said or did something he would regret and -surprisingly- for the first time, saw something in Russell that she had failed to see before: Here in this room a man stood with her. Not a friend. Not a shoulder to cry on. Not a traveling partner. Not an annoying older brother. A man. The thought did strange things to her gut and she pushed the sentiment away, too torn to deal with it now.

At last Russell looked up and she froze at the dark and unprecedented look in his eyes. She managed to hold it despite all odds, though. "Who," he said slowly, so very slowly, "in their right mind would love _you_, Anne?"

If it held anger and disgust, it was directed to himself. As if his answer was 'Yes, I love you and yes, therefore certainly am not in my right mind'. But even this managed to activate something in the intricate system that Anne was that had never really been nudged before. Shame. "No one, really," she heard herself mumble as a strange heat walked over her face. Part of her mind marveled at this, at the sentiment of it, at the startling absence of her ever-present self-confidence. Part of her mind found nothing but her own misery to hold on to. "As a matter of fact," she sighed, for the first time feeling rather uncomfortable and...exposed... in front of Russell. It seemed as if in a matter of seconds he had shed the garment of trusted old friend and had become something else...something...alien. "...I don't think anyone really did."

He didn't answer right away. Anne watched the swaying of the torchlight on the cave walls. Why on earth had she come here with him? And why had she started the conversation? And why oh why had she mentioned her ex-boyfriend!

"You make it awfully hard," was his final mumble of an answer as he hesitated another moment, then made if he meant to turn around and leave.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, suddenly certain that she didn't want him to leave. She still felt strange about the idea of Russell's infatuation with her and she didn't really think that she would be capable of returning it, but they had been friends for so long, the idea that she would lose him as a friend was completely unacceptable to her. Maybe not for that kind of love, but for the love she felt for him, she would fight. "I really am. Can we start again?"

Russell glanced at her in the semi-darkness, trying to read her mood. That last part seemed anxious and not so confident. God knew that Anne could use some modesty. But then...what choice did he have in this whole thing, anyway? If she refused him, he was doomed. And she _would_ refuse him. This, he knew with certainty. He had seen Anne's choice of men and he had no delusions - he was far from her type. And it must be strange for her to even think of him in that way after the long years of friendship. He had been seeing her in a different light for a long time now, but this must be very new and maybe even revolting for Anne.

He sighed and scratched his neck again, rooted to his spot. Then he shrugged, trying to look indifferent. "If you want..."

Anne sighed in relief. She had managed to make everyone dislike her these days. If she could change that at least with one person, it would be a worthy deed. "Okay..." she said softly, daring to give him a glance. Before she could find a way to continue on more dangerous ground, he interrupted.

"I'm sorry I spoke like that about...him."

She blinked, momentarily not certain what he meant. "Oh," she said then, strangely delighted. "Don't be. I mean...I don't know why I was defending him. He was such a jerk."

Russell observed her making a dismissive headshake and despite his desire not to, felt happy for it. As if it mattered whether she had really loved Mark or not! He shrugged again, not sure how to continue. "You were right," Anne sighed. A strange feeling came over her, then. Never before had she felt tempted to gain his liking or his confirmation in one thing or another. Now suddenly it seemed important that Russell thought well of her. It was such a strange sentiment that she blinked with the realization and hesitated for a few moments.

"I just think you deserve better," he said then. Here in this surreal environment and with all the cards already on the table, Russell felt tempted to be a bit bolder. Being reserved surely hadn't helped him much.

To his amazement she didn't give a sarcastic reply, but smiled sincerely in return. "Thank you." It seemed like the kindest thing any man had said to her in a long time. Then she shook herself awake. 'What am I? Human? Get a hold of your reins, woman!' "Well...I was saying when we return…to New York, I mean…we should…I don't know…hang out?"

It was too weird a statement to be overlooked. His confused eyes that met hers were pulsing darkly in the cavern. Or maybe it was her heart that was pulsing with…what? Shame? Excitement? They _always_ hung out together, for God's sake! Why ask it as if it meant…something else than just hanging out! Suddenly too embarrassed about her words, she blurted "Cause I don't think we'll see Irulan for a while. And even though she is annoying and all that…I'll miss her company."

"Who says we won't see her for a while?" was the careful question.

This time she rolled her eyes. "By now you know what Legolas is like. I mean I can guess that he'll be too eager to have her for himself. If not forever, for a while."

"He would, wouldn't he?" Russell sighed, glancing away. He carefully walked around the question posed to him moments ago. Hope was too daring a thing in his position. Better not to make much of it. "Well…too bad for her. She'll miss _our_ company more than we'll miss hers." That was not true at all considering that she would be with Legolas-the-god, but it felt good to say it.

Anne smiled again, this time with relief. "Then I guess we'll hang out."

This time it was Russell who rolled his eyes. "Why the hell not?" was his frustrated exclamation.

"Good. Cause I don't intend to change my life just because my best friend was swept off her feet by some elf," she sniffed, pushing her chin up.

"Thanks to you," he mumbled as he turned to leave the dead end cavern.

"I heard that."

"O gosh, don't kill me in this dark cave!" Russell moaned with mock terror.

"Grow out of it, Russell. I did what I thought was best for them."

"Well, aren't you the angel!" he laughed, exiting the dark corridor, closely followed by a mumbling Anne.

They argued, slowly tracing their way back to the entrance. Russell stepped out into the warm summer day and took a long look at the swaying forest. He heard Anne behind him, silent as he was, and for the moment he felt content to just stand here, with the woman he loved nearby, glance towards nature and not think of anything further. The web they had managed to tangle themselves in was had carried them this far had entangled itself a bit and had finally given them room to breathe.

Breathing was good. To be able to step away from everything and anything and to let the world spin by itself for a while was a healthy, satisfying break from the madness that was life. She came to stand next to him then, so close that he could reach out to touch her if he had wanted to. But he didn't. Many things could be said about Russell, but no one could say that he was greedy, that he overreached himself. He was contend to be by her side and even though he didn't know what the future would bring –or if it would bring anything at all- the future was far away this day and all that mattered was the freedom, the lightness, the gentleness of the moment.

Russell was there to enjoy it to the fullest.

* * *

They packed the horses, took their last glimpses of the house and reluctantly began to prepare to leave. It was a saddening and strange thing – even though they had had an awkward and terrifying journey, still it had felt good to be in Baeron's house. They couldn't help but feel a little out of place, a little somber and quite a bit miserable to be leaving with the possibility of never returning.

Legolas and Haldir pulled close the door that shut itself with a dense and dull sound and joined the rest of the silent group. Everyone stood watching the mansion as if they meant to engrave it into their memories. The idea that she was mentally trying to achieve the very thing that Baeron had done on cave walls struck Irulan then. She smiled despite herself, then took a deep breath of the incredibly clean air. 'Will I ever see it again?' she mused, trying to unhook herself from the place despite her wish. Who knew? And in a way, it hardly mattered. She _had_ seen it and now, it was like a drawing on a cave wall – something that no one could take away from her. Baeron had used his own means to revere what he missed. Perhaps Irulan would use her own and write about it. The idea made her smile again and after a brief inspection, she walked a few steps to pick up a single bamboo leaf from the edge of the forest. She twirled it in her fingers thoughtfully, then returned to the awaiting company.

"Keep this for me? I know I'll tear it on the way." Legolas gave the leaf a knowing look, then graced her with a smile and gently took it from her to put it into this backpack. He held his hand to her afterwards and she accepted, scrambling unto the horse as he lithely glided to sit behind her.

A few more moments of silence followed and Irulan thought to sense a feeling of contentment emanating not solely from herself, but from everyone around her. As if hearing her thoughts, Anne sighed. "We have to come back some day. Can you believe that I forgot the most important thing! A camera!"

"Ah well," Haldir chuckled from behind her, "We can't have that now, can we? We must return."

Irulan shook her head at Anne's somber look of conviction. "But next time," Russel said not without a tone of warning, "no more of this stupid chasing. We'll do it the proper way."

"So you really mean to return?" was Mona's half curious, half amused question.

No one answered it. In a way, they all felt like if they did, the repetition would undo the impact of the first experience. If they left now and never came back, Baeron's house would be recalled with more than fondness, because it represented a haven at the end of danger, a mystery that had lured them from thousands of miles away, a treasure that had been uncovered by walking through the dingy darkness, and a victory that had been won not too lightly. If, however, they returned one day and traveled here with leisure and joy, it would become something else and lose its uniqueness.

No, perhaps they would not return.

"If the road wills it so," Legolas said at last and turned his horse around. The others followed and despite her want, Irulan did not turn to take a last look. She told herself that she didn't need to pine for something that no one could part from her, now. She did, however, spare a moment for Baeron's memory. 'Such beautiful things you have built, my friend! I am honored to have glimpsed it. Thank you!'

It would be a long ride to civilization. No doubt that Legolas and Haldir were more eager then they acted, for as soon as they were in range, they would activate their cell phones and try to find out if the Circle had managed to gather more information about Irulan's mysterious pursuers. At this point she had convinced herself that it was somehow related to Legolas and thereby, let the issue drop from her hands into his. Not that she would have been able to find anything by herself, anyway. He was the man for the job and Irulan was glad that she didn't have to hunt the kind of men that had killed Ellen and John.

The idea as well as the diminishing distance to their goal made her uneasy. She had been able to suppress even thinking about it for a while at Baeron's estate. There had been other…matters…to attend to. But now as the hills gave way to rice fields and the forests diminished, as they began to see other people once more, it refused to be subdued that easily. She shuddered a little and touched his arm that encircled her waist. Legolas, always perceptive and three steps ahead of her, said gently "Don't be afraid. I am with you now."

"I'm not really afraid. Though I should be, I guess. It's just…kind of new to me."

He smiled as his fingers caressed her bruised rib. "I suppose it is the price of my company," was his final sigh.

This time it was her smile and she turned her head to look into his eyes. "It's totally worth it, Legolas."

He kissed her brow and kept his silence. For him, it was a matter-of-fact thing that people close to him were and always had been at some sort of risk. Despite the fact that he was a skillful chameleon, Legolas was too important a man to pass as common and there were always those who detected it and meant to explore it. Maybe a wiser man would choose to isolate himself from others just to keep them safe. But with the time span granted to his kind, that would only mean madness. Besides, he was here for a reason, and isolating himself from others was the least preferable thing to do in the name of that cause.

So Irulan would have to stand in his circle and like everyone else who stood in his proximity, feel the heat of the fire. He had accepted that the moment he had allowed himself an affair with her and despite the risk, he simply could not regret his decision. She was too precious to be passed on and he was too much in need to show such nobility.

Instead, he would redouble his caution and aim to protect better. He would find these pursuers and track them down to locate the key person who had started it all. There was always a key person who wanted something from him – power, money, his death or his help… It was hard to understand how in this case Irulan had been dragged into the whole issue, but Legolas was not in doubt of his skills – he would find answers, and soon, too.

His dream returned to him then and for a moment his spirit and decisiveness faltered. Then, just as quickly as it had shown up, it dissipated into the dusk of the day. 'It meant nothing,' he thought to himself as crickets began their never-changing song around them and the air cooled pleasantly. 'Or it meant everything. Perhaps I saw her impending danger. Perhaps it was my sickness. Or maybe it was just that I was worried. And most possibly, it was just what it was – a dream. This is a different age. It is the age of reason and information – the time I acted on dreams is a time that belongs amongst Baeron's drawings.'

It made brought relief, that avenue. He strengthened his grip on her waist and exhaled the remnants of his irritation. There were far more pleasing dreams and reality, it seemed, was sweeter than any of them.


End file.
